


Supernatural Wars: A New Faith

by WynnaPendragon



Series: Supernatural Wars [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-04
Updated: 2011-12-27
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 60,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WynnaPendragon/pseuds/WynnaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Hunted by the Host's most menacing agents, Prince Castiel races home aboard his starship, guardian of the secret plans that could not only save his charges, but the entire galaxy</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It is a time of civil unrest. The Rebel Hunters, scattered across the Galaxy, have scored their first and alleged only victory against the hordes of the Imperial Host.

As the battle waged on, the Rebel Hunters had managed to commandeer secret plans to the Host’s supreme weapon, The Morning Star, an armored space station rumored to have enough power to destroy an entire planet.

Hunted by the Host’s most menacing agents, Prince Castiel races home aboard his starship, guardian of the secret plans that could not only save his charges, but the entire galaxy…

 

They were approaching the planet Tatooine as the star destroyer came upon them, commanding them to surrender and to allow themselves to be boarded. They answered back with laser fire- it wouldn’t do much, it wouldn’t even buy them any time- and there was no one willing to take on the Galactic Host to ensure their escape. The destroyer quickly answered them back with their own laser bolts, thus damaging the ship. In a desperate bid to freedom, they quickly went into hyperspace, all the while knowing they would be followed.

Explosions rocked the ship, sparks rained down from over head as they were abruptly pulled from hyperspace. The ship was badly damaged, and there was no telling if they were going to get back to Alderaan alive. Two droids, battered and in need of some repair, hurried down the passageway. Almost panicked in their speed, they seemed as though they had a life of their own.

One of the droids, a tall bronze model, jerked to the side after a particular nasty explosion, exclaimed, “Did you **hear** that back there? The Host shut down the ship’s main reactor! We’re going to annihilated! This is madness!”

The Rebel Hunters hurried down the passageway and took up their positions in the hallway facing the blast doors where the Host’s agents would stream forth and bring about their destruction. The Hunters, some inexperienced in the field, were nervous. And who could blame them? The Galactic Host were not ones to be merciful. The tales of their exploits ranged far and wide in the galaxy, and none of them inspired thought of allegiance, especially not with the Hunters.

They aimed their blasters at the door, the few moments before total destruction thickened the air with tension, thrummed through every being and vibrated through every cell in the ship.

The bronze robot watched the hallway, “We’re doomed!” The little robot standing next to him rocked from side to side, issuing forth beeps and electronic noises, and the taller droid responded mournfully, “There’ll be no escape for the Prince this time.”

The little droid beside him continued to screech mechanically as the ship suddenly quieted. All that could be heard was the Rebel Hunters’ panting breaths. They stared at the blast door, adjusted their blasters in their slightly trembling grip and looked at one another with trepidation. 

They were jolted to attention as they felt the sharp jerk of the destroyer’s tracker beam latched on to the ship. They could do nothing as loud banging and screaming of metal heralded the sound of their doom. It took no time at all before they could hear the steady tramping of the Storm Troopers’ boots upon the metal grating, approaching ever closer to the Rebel ship.

With a great blast, the door burst open, making way for several white-armored troopers to storm through. They wasted no time in firing upon each other; quickly the passageway was alight with blaster fire and filled with smoke. The space was so narrow; the deadly bolts ricocheted off the walls, only serving to destroy the passageway and shattering the delicate equipment needed to keep their environment secure.

The Storm Troopers ducked behind the cargo near the door, firing back at the Hunters just as haphazardly. The Hunters were clearly at a disadvantage- though they had training, they were no match for the troopers that had the superior military experience. The passageway transformed into a warzone- into a tomb- as the Hunters fell one by one. The robots were startled into movement as an explosion shattered a piece of the wall near them.

“I should have known better than to trust the ranting of a half-sized, fanatical refuse compactor…” The taller robot grumbled. The smaller robot replied angrily as more laser bolts were fired around them.

The hallways were soon littered with rebel bodies, the only other survivors escaped deeper into their ship, drawing the troops deeper into the ship in small groups as to cull their numbers quickly and without any more casualties. No matter where the robots went, they walked into the heat of battle, narrowly escaping one hallway where they had to walk right through the laser fire.

* * *

Three troopers stood guard at the entrance to the rebel ship, waiting for their black-robed commander. He strode in with ease while side-stepping a body in front of him with inhuman grace, his rasping breaths the only thing to be heard over the laser bolts further off into the ship.

As one, the Hunters aboard the ship paused in their fighting. It was as if a dark, oppressive force engulfed the ship, the pressure so great it was hard to breathe. The Hunters knew that this was one of his rumored “abilities”, and that they should either stand up against their foes, or run screaming. Some opted for running and screaming, and were soon cut down.

The Host’s agent paused in the middle of the passageway for only a few short moments, surveyed his surroundings slightly impatiently with his fists resting on his hips, then resumed his steady pace. There was nothing of import in these silent halls, the Hunters were not important to him now; he will kill him in due time, let the mice cower in their holes for a little while longer. There was a bigger rodent he had his eye on. His troops fell into step behind him, their paced march echoing through the hallway eerily.

* * *

Prince Castiel gently slid the disc into the little droid’s storage compartment, making the unit beep softly. It no longer mattered what happened to him anymore, the plans were the only thing to save them now, he would gladly sacrifice his life for the good of his people, and the galaxy. The taller robot walked into their storage room in confusion, leaving the screams of dying rebels and soldiers echoing behind him.

“Becky2? R2Becky2 where are you?” He asked, exasperated. He was about to turn and leave before hearing the tell-tale sounds of his little companion. He looked to where he heard the sounds, seeing a smoke-filled passageway, and already he wanted to turn around tonleave, there was no telling what could come popping out of the darkness. He saw a young man stood beside the R2 unit robed in white, a hood covering obscuring his youthful features.

Prince Castiel. His memory banks supplied him with the information: a young senator in the Galactic Alliance, born on the planet Alderaan. He was the youngest human male to ascend the throne. He was furtively looking behind him before pressing a few buttons on the little unit. When he was finished, he cautiously ducked into an alcove behind him. He wanted to say something, anything to assure the young man that everything was going to be okay but he wasn’t sure if that was the brightest idea he ever had while in the middle of a war zone.

Becky2 leisurely rolled down the walkway towards her much taller companion, ignoring his panicked diatribe. How she could act so oblivious at a time like this, the other robot could never know; although with all the time they had sent together over the years he shouldn’t be too surprised.

“Finally! Where have you **been**?!” The battle was still raging, becoming ever-louder as the troopers drew closer. The robot looked through the entryway, continuing in alarm, “They’re getting closer. What are we going to do now? We’ll be used for spare parts or crushed into scrap metal for sure!”

Becky2’s head compartment swiveled towards the other robot before scooting past her companion into the sub-hallway behind him, making the other hurry after her, “Wait a sec, just where do you think you’re going?” Becky2’s only response was to beep at him.

The young prince watched them leave and hoped that his message would reach his intended quickly, before the Host had a chance to intercept it. He pulled back his hood, his spiky hair sticking up in all directions, and determinedly set off to his fate.

* * *

They surrendered.

The Hunters could not withstand the might of the Host, and they- what few survivors there were left- were marched to the destroyer’s brig to await punishment.

Lord Zayder stood amidst the broken and useless bodies of his enemies, grabbing a wounded Hunter around the throat as one of his Imperial officers rushed up to him, “The Morning Star plans are not in the main computer.”

He clenched his hand around the wounded man’s throat, the eyes of his mask boring into the officers, his mechanical voice interrogating harshly, “ **Where** are those transmissions you intercepted?” Zayder lifted the man off of his feet, his hand still around his enemy's throat, dry cracking noises from the man’s neck punctuating the movement, “ **What** have you **done** with those plans?!”

The Hunter wrapped his hands around Lord Zayder’s wrist, imploringly he choked, “We didn’t intercept any transmissions.” He cried out as the hand tightened, “This is a consular ship! We’re on a diplomatic mission!”

He yanked the man closer, staring into his eyes, feeling a brush of fear pouring off the man and knew he was lying. “If this is a consular ship,” he squeezed his hand, “then where is the Ambassador?” Receiving no response he grew impatient, finally snapping the man’s neck and throwing the body carelessly against the wall. He whirled on the officer, “Commander, you will tear this ship apart until you have found those plans, and bring me the Ambassador. I want him **alive**!” He then marched out abruptly, as the other troops scurried out into other sub-hallways.

* * *

The young man huddled in an alcove with a blaster clutched in his hands and watched as the troopers search the ship. He knew they were searching for him and the plans he had transported into the R2 unit the others had affectionately named ‘Becky2’, thankful to know that if they happened to find him the Host wouldn’t get their filthy hands on the plans. He was a member of the Alderaan Senate, although Prince Castiel could safely assume that he would no longer rule the planet any longer if they captured him.

The fear he felt quickly boiled into anger, how dare they search his ship so brazenly? How could they, in all their seeming ‘good-faith’, murder innocent people for the sake of power? His eyes narrowed, if the plans get to right people then he would have no need to worry, he would die with a clear conscience knowing that his people would be kept safe.

He chilled in sudden fear as he heard a voice call out, “There he is! Set blasters to stun!”

He took a step out of his hiding place, quickly shooting a trooper with his pistol. He darted down the hallway, but tumbled due to the ground from a paralyzing ray. The trooper and his two companions approached, one of them toeing the prince’s unconscious body, “He’ll be alright. Tell Lord Zayder we have a prisoner.”

* * *

Becky2 rolled to a stop in front of the hatch of a small life-pod and hacked quickly into the controls, the hatch opened and she scooted her way into the cramped space. The taller droid danced nervously outside, “We’re not allowed in there. It’s forbidden.” After no response from the little droid, he yelled, “We’ll get in a lot of trouble for this!” As she beeped smugly at him he exclaimed, “Don’t you call me that you creepy little midget! Now get out of there before we get caught!”

She whistled at him importantly, and he cocked his head to the side, questioning skeptically, “‘Secret mission’? ‘Plans’? I don’t know what you’re talking about, but the hell am I going in there!”

She angrily beeped at him, rocking from side to side. He was startled as yet another explosion rocked their little ship and debris rained down upon the lanky robot. After having to listen to another panicked rant from the little droid, the other robot hopped into the life pod, pouting, “I’m totally going to regret this.”

Two officers aboard the star destroyer watched on the main view-screen as another life-pod was jettisoned out into space.

“There goes another one,” said one officer, his hand hovering over the ammunition button.

“Hold your fire,” His commanding officer advised, “There aren’t any life forms aboard. It must have short-circuited.”

The two droids watched as the Imperial ship spun farther away from them. The taller droid said in surprise, “Doesn’t look that bad from out here.” Becky2 agreed with him, beeping softly in response. He jerked to face her, “Is this thing safe?”

* * *

The young prince was marched through the ship with his hands bound before him, keeping up a steady pace with the other troops. They stopped suddenly as Zayder emerged through a door beside them; his great hulking mass filled the hallway with malice and smug victory. He stared hard down at the seemingly frail looking young senator, but all Prince Castiel did was stare haughtily back at him.

Prince Castiel clenched his teeth, “Lord Zayder, I should have suspected as much. Only **you** could be so brash. The Senate will not settle with this, when they hear that you have attacked a diplomatic-”

He cut the young senator off before he could come up with any more steam, putting his hands on his hips; his metallic voice took on a lecturing tone, “Don’t play games with me, Your Highness. You were not on a merciful mission this time, you passed brazenly through a clearly marked restricted system. We know that several transmissions were beamed to this ship by Rebel spies, I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you.” He bit out the last sentence in poorly disguised anger.

Prince Castiel’s voice lowered into the measured tones of a negotiator, “I do not know what you are talking about, I am a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan-”

“-You are a part of the Rebel Hunters, and a traitor.” He pronounced with venom, gesturing heatedly down the hallway, “Take him away!” He turned and marched away as they led the prince to the destroyer’s brig.

Zayder walked a few steps in silence while the commanding officer hurried beside him. As they turned the corner the younger man spoke, “It is dangerous holding the prince, sir. If word of this incident gets out, it could very well generate sympathy for the Rebellion in the Senate.”

“I have traced all connections of the Rebel spies to him; he is my only link to find their secret headquarters.” There was no way he was going to let the little prince slip through his fingers again, of that he was certain.

“He’ll **die** before he tells you anything!”

“Leave that to me,” He intoned quietly, “Send out a distress signal and inform the Senate that all aboard the ship were dead when we approached.”

Before the man could carry out his orders, they were approached by another officer who reported, “Lord Zayder, the battle station plans are not aboard the ship, and no transmissions from when we boarded were made. An escape pod was jettisoned during the skirmish, but there weren’t any life forms aboard.”

It seemed he underestimated the young man. He turned to the officer beside him, “He must have hidden the plans there.” To the other officer he ordered, “Send a detachment down to retrieve them, see to it **personally** , Commander. No one will stop us this time.”

“Yes sir.”

* * *

They landed in the Jundeland Waste, heat waves boiled off of the rippling dune waves, the twin suns beat down overhead. The two droids walked away from the burned out shell of the escape pod, their passage kicking up dust and sand.

“I don’t know how we keep getting into these situations, what did I do to deserve being dropped in a big ass **litter box**?” The bronze droid said miserably. Becky2 blipped in response, quietly whirring away beside him as the other looked around them before soldiering on, “What a boring place this is.”

Becky2 started whistling and beeping in excitement, making a sharp right turn towards a rocky outcropping. The other robot stopped and yelled after him, “Where do you think you’re going?” He was answered by a long stream of beeping and whistling then replied, “Well I’m not going with you. That way requires too much work on my part, this way is much easier.” The robot gestured the direction they were walking.

Becky2 answered with a very long whistle, and the droid shook his head, “And what makes you think you’ll find anything in that direction?” Becky2 beeped at him, and he threatened, “Don’t you get all technical on me.”

As she continued to argue with him he exclaimed, “The hell are you talking about? What mission?! That’s it, I’m done. You go that way, and I’m going this way! You will be malfunctioning in an hour, you goofy-looking storage bin!” He punctuated his rant with a sharp kick to Becky2’s behind, and started off the way he was going before their argument, before throwing over his shoulder, “And don’t let me catch you crawling back for help, cause you’re not going to get it.”

She threw a rude comment back at him as he walked off, and he shook his head, “No more crazy adventures for me, I’m going this way. Surely I won’t get into any more trouble in the desert.”

Time flew by; there was nothing in the desert but sand, dunes, and the android’s footprints marking his progress. “That insane little midget! This is all her fault!” The android cried, it had been over an hour, and he was no closer to finding any shelter than he did when they first landed. He knocked the sand from his joints in a huff. He tilted to the side as he looked at the horizon, “What’s—A transport! I’m saved!”

He stepped forward a couple spaces, raising his arms above his head, hopping up and down as he tried to get the transport’s attention, “I’m over here! Help! I’m over here!”

* * *

As Becky2 scooted along on her path to the receiver of the Most Important Message, she scanned the area around her in foreboding, an odd clicking noise following her wherever she went. Small rocks tumbled from above and strange noises echoed throughout the rocky canyon; she suspected she was being followed, but by what she was unsure. Too many life forms were around for her to make a clear judgment. She stopped suddenly as she heard a decisive, metallic clanking noise. She scanned the area, just one last time, before moving along.

She didn’t notice the figures above her tracking her every move. The little beings darted to and fro, the reason for the tumbling pebbles. Their glowing little eyes followed the little droid as she continued on her path, itching to get their hands on the clearly expensive machinery they could sell for a good profit.

Out of nowhere, a magnetic ray engulfed her little body that froze her completely. She squeaked pitifully before falling over, her lights flickering, then shutting off all together. Three Jawas oozed out of the rocky outcroppings toward the little robot, lugging complex machinery able to carry the little droid to their transport. They lifted her, hissing grunting as they carried her off towards a huge tank-like vehicle, named the Sandcrawler.

She turned back on inside a room of the huge transport, a dark holding area surrounded by other droids, machinery, and parts. She switched on a tiny floodlight resting on her dome, scooting around the narrow paths of the room. The milky beam of light swung across rusty parts, scrap metal and…mangled remains of other droids. She whimpered, then scooted past out through a small door.

She came upon another room, filled with other droids and scrap metal. She was about to leave, until a familiar voice rang out, “Becky2! It **is** you!”

* * *

The sun shone brightly over the small contingent that was sent to survey the area where the escape pod had crashed. They could easily a path of footprints leading from the crash site, winding through the dunes in the distance. They were told that there were no life forms aboard the tiny vessel, so it bore questioning, just what was in the escape pod?

A soldier lifted up a piece of metal that rested in the soft sand below, motioning to the commanding officer, “Droids.”

* * *

The hulking Sandcrawler coasted through the sand dunes with natural ease, cutting through the sand like a shark. Inside was a different story. The droids and all matter of metal parts were jostled noisily, the taller robot tried centering himself the best that he could next to Becky2, unwilling to fall over. She shut down after the first hour of their travel, there wasn’t much of anything to do except wait for wherever their travels would take them.

The bronze robot was startled as their transport settled to a stop, “They stopped. Get up!” He knocked on Becky2’s dome impatiently, “Get up!”

She beeped at him irritation, her lights blinking. They whirled towards the large door as it opened, flooding the space with the bright light from outside. A few Jawas scurried into the room, inspecting and selecting a few droids out of the bunch.

“We’re dead.” The robot whispered to Becky2, watching as the Jawas drew closer, “What are they gonna do to us?”

The leader Jawa scooted closer to them, pointing and gesturing at the droids, obviously selecting them for some unknown purpose. The other Jawas walked off, selecting more droids and parts, leaving one behind to gesture threateningly at the two droids with a nasty looking blaster.

“Geez! Don’t shoot!” To Becky2, “Now what?”

All manner of droids were hustled out into the open by the impatient Jawas, lined up in front of the Sandcrawler. They were gathered in front of a strange farm dwelling; three large holes and drill-like towers surrounded a small ivory adobe, presumably a moisture farm. The Jawas scurried between many droids, brushing off whatever debris that they accumulated during their long wait for new masters.

The leader met up with two humans that emerged from the small dwelling, an older gentleman and a young man, both dressed in light colored tunics and trousers. The older man hurried the Jawa to the line-up, clearly eager to be done doing business with the pushy little beings. The young man stood silently beside him, almost hunching in upon himself.

“Jimmy? Jimmy!” A female voice called from one of the large holes. The young man, Jimmy, hurried over towards the gentle call. As he looked over the edge, the woman called, “Jimmy, tell your Uncle Roger that if he gets a translator, make sure it speaks Bocce.”

“There doesn’t seem to be a lot to choose from, but I’ll let him know.” He hurried back over to his uncle as he made his selection.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take the red one,” Uncle Roger muttered to the Jawa before stopping in front of the bronze robot, “I don’t need a protocol droid-”

“Prince Castiel?!” The bronze robot exclaimed, looking directly at Jimmy, who turned around looking for the person the robot called for, he’d never seen royalty before. He didn’t see anyone of interest, turning back and pointing at himself.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Why of course sir! I just saw you on the transport; I’m so relieved you got out of there safely.”

Jimmy frowned, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What I need,” Roger interrupted, “Is a droid that can understand and translate moisture vaporators.”

Jimmy scowled; he wanted to know what the droid was talking about, who was Prince Castiel?

“Vaporators!” The robot exclaimed, turning his attention to Roger, “My first job was a programmer for a binary load lifter, they’re just like vaporators.”

“Do you speak Bocce?”

“Well, yeah, it’s like a second language. I can speak several languages than just Bocce-”

“Yeah ok, I’ll take this one.” He said to the Jawa. He turned to Jimmy, “Take these droid to the garage; they need to be cleaned up before dinner.”

“But, who’s Prince-”

“Don’t listen to what that droid says; now go do as I said.”

Jimmy’s brow furrowed, but one look from his uncle, he let it go, “Alright then, let’s go.” He motioned to the droids and started off to the garage. The bronze robot followed, and Becky2 beeped pathetically as she watched him go. Jimmy paused as the red droid failed to follow him, motioning to the little robot, “Come on, Red, let’s go.” The red robot set off towards the human slowly, Becky2 rocking back and forth wildly to get the bronze robot’s attention. He turned back, looking at her one more time, before following his new master.

As she set off towards them, she was restrained by another Jawa, freezing her with the same ray they used to capture her. As the two robots got closer to the homestead, a piece of metal flew off the top of the red robot. It started sparking and smoking, and Jimmy stopped it from moving any farther, “Uncle Roger.”

“Yeah?”

“This droid has a bad motivator.” He moved his head to the robot.

Uncle Roger whirled on the head Jawa, “Hey, what are you trying to pull?!”

As the Jawa tried to explain, Becky2 hopped on her two little legs trying to get their attention. The other robot tapped Jimmy on the shoulder, suggesting gently, “Sir, that blue droid over there is in much better condition, and real cheap, too.”

Jimmy nodded, pointing over to Becky2, “Uncle Roger, what about that one?”

To the head Jawa he said, “What about that blue one over there? We’ll take that.”

Grumbling, the Jawa traded the blue robot for the red one, sending two other Jawas after it to bring it back to their vehicle.

“You’ll be really happy with this one, sir. She’s in good condition; I’ve worked with her a lot.”

Jimmy’s uncle paid the Jawa off, and the two robots followed the young man into their garage for cleaning. The taller robot looked over at the little droid who was beeping and whistling happily, “You owe me one.”

* * *

The two robots were quickly hooked up to the requisite machinery in which to clean and recharge them. The taller robot was lowered into a large vat of oil while the other was hooked up to another computer in order to recharge it. It was quiet and peaceful; the low-ceilinged garage had a cluttered, lived-in feeling to it.

“Thank the Maker,” The robot exclaimed happily, “This bath is really going to hit the spot, I feel like I’m covered in sand!” Becky2 agreed with him just as happily.

Jimmy sat in a chair a little ways away from them, lost in thought. Most of his friends were off starting their lives while he was stuck on a deserted planet, not doing much of anything except help his uncle on the farm. It wasn’t hard work, but it felt like every time he had an opportunity to start his own life, his uncle seemed to need him more and more. With the addition of two more droids, his purpose was dwindling; his uncle would soon run out of things for him to do. He sighed and stood up, “I’be got to get out of here.”

The bronze robot looked over at him, the human had the tell-tale signs of frustration and desperation etched across his face, mixed with a heaping does of guilt, “Can I do anything to help?”

Jimmy shook his head as he started working on Becky2, “No, not unless you could alter time, make it so we don’t have to wait for the harvest, or teleport me out of here.”

“Sorry, sir.” He said apologetically, “Can’t really help you there, and anyone that can are long gone from here. At least on this planet, where are we anyway?”

“Tatooine,” Jimmy supplied, “The farthest planet from any civilized place, and you can call me Jimmy.”

“I’m Chuck3PO, human-cyborg affairs. This is my…partner, Becky2.” He ended rather anticlimactically, receiving an indignant beep from the little droid.

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled at the little droid, who beeped sweetly in reply.

Jimmy unplugged her, and started to clean her dome, scraping several connectors with a metal pick. While Jimmy busied himself scraping off compacted sand and debris from Becky2, he frowned, “You’ve got a lot of carbon scoring on you. It looks like you’ve seen some action.”

“I’m amazed we are still functioning, after everything we’ve been in the middle of.” Chuck3PO said as he joined Jimmy, “What with the Rebellion and all.”

“You know about the Rebellion?” He asked, surprised.

“It’s how we got here actually.” Beck2 beeped in agreement.

“Have you been in any battles?” 

“A lot,” Chuck3PO agreed, “There’s not that much to tell, really. I’m just an interpreter.”

Jimmy struggled as he tried to remove a piece of metal from Becky2, “It seems like something is jammed in here, were you on a cruiser or-”

It came loose with a snap, he fell back as all of a sudden, a twelve-inch hologram figure appeared on the floor beside him. He sat up and watched as the figure flickered in an out of focus, gasping as he recognized the face.

It was the same one that looked back at him in the mirror.

“Help me, Robert Singer, you’re my only hope.” The figure implored.

“What is this?” Jimmy said in surprise, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Becky2 shifted nervously and beeped a soft response for Chuck3PO to translate for her. The figure kept repeating the sentence over again.

“What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?” Chuck3PO asked in exasperation. “He asked you a question, what is **that**?” He pointed to the figure, caught in a loop.

Becky2 pretended to just notice the feed, she awkwardly beeped an answer for Chuck3PO to translate for her while the hologram kept repeating the one sentence, “Help me, Robert Singer, you’re my only hope.”

“She says that it’s a malfunction, old data.”

Jimmy’s head tilted, “Who is he? He looks-just like me.” He had a strange feeling blossoming in his chest as he watched the figure. He wondered just what this could mean, and had a sinking feeling that his guardians had been keeping a fairly large secret from him.

“He’s Prince Castiel of Alderaan, part of the Senate. I admit, I thought you were him when we first met. You look identical.” Chuck3PO said apologetically.

“Help me, Robert Singer…”

“Is there more to this recording?” He interrupted, still staring at the figure. He reached out to the unit, drawing back as she frantically beeped and screeched.

“Will you calm down?! You are going to get in a lot of trouble. He’s our new master now, you gotta trust him.”

Jimmy watched in bemusement as Becky2 spewed forth a series of beeps and whistles, almost laughing as Chuck3PO huffed and turned to him to explain, “She says she is the property of this Robert Singer, and that he lives here, it’s a private message meant just for him. I don’t really know what she’s talking about, our last master was Captain Antilles, I guess she’s just gone crazy with all that’s happened.”

“Robert Singer? I wonder if she means old Bobby Singer?” He muttered to himself in thought.

“You know what she’s talking about?”

“I think she might be talking about old Bobby Singer, he lives out there beyond the Dune Sea. He’s kind of a hermit, works on old transports.” Jimmy gazed at the hologram for a few moments, “I wonder who she’s talking about. He sounds like he’s in a lot of trouble; I’d better play back the whole thing. Please tell me there is more to this.”

Becky2 looked over at Chuck3PO and beeped, while the other robot translated, “She says the restraining bolt they put on her short circuited her system, if you remove it, she’ll be able to play it back for you.”

“I doubt you two will run away if I take it off.” He took off the bolt, watching as the hologram disappeared in panic, “Where’d he go?”

Becky2 beeped innocently at him as Chuck3PO shifted in embarrassment, “’What message’? The one you were just playing!”

Jimmy started as a female voice called from far away, “Jimmy? Jimmy! Come to dinner!”

Jimmy pursed his lips as he stood, calling back, “I’ll be right there Aunt Amelia!” He tossed the restraining bolt on the counter, “See what you can do with her please, I’ll be back.”

As he walked out of the garage, Chuck3PO whispered to her, “You’d better re-think playing back that message for him.” As Becky2 beeped at him, he replied, “No, I don’t think he likes you at all.” She beeped again, “No, I’ve never liked you.”

* * *

He stood in the doorway to their kitchen, looking in on the peaceful domestic scene. His uncle sat at the head of the table, and his aunt set covered plates and pitchers near their seats, like every dinner they have had for the past twenty-three years. He watched as they interacted as if nothing was amiss, as if they haven’t been keeping secrets from a child for so long. He wondered if he should feel angry with them. Betrayed. Confused.

What could possibly be so horrible that they had to lie to him? Why didn’t they tell him he had a twin? Who were his parents? Were they royalty like his twin? Did that mean he was a royal as well? How could they have lied to him for so long? Why couldn’t they tell him the truth? They had to have known  **something**.

He shook his head, it wouldn’t help anything to enter the room feeling the way he was, he would have to set his feelings aside and get to the truth of the matter before he started to cast blame. He sat stiffly down at the table, folding his hands in his lap, “I think the R2 unit we bought might be stolen.”

“What makes you say that?” His Uncle Roger asked quietly, filling his cup with a pitcher of water.

“I found a recording while I was cleaning her; she said that she belongs to a man named Robert Singer.” It did not escape his notice that his uncle hesitated just slightly at the mention of Robert’s name, and how his aunt seemed to freeze for a moment. He glanced between them, continuing innocently, “I thought she meant old Bobby, do you know what she’s talking about? I wonder if they know each other somehow.”

Uncle Roger slammed his glass down on the table irritably, “That old man is just a crazy old mechanic. Tomorrow, you are going to take that droid to Anchorhead and get its memory erased. That’s the end of it, that droid belongs to us now.”

“But what if Robert comes looking for…it?”

“He’s not, he’s dead.” He bit out, “He died around the same time as your father.”

“He knew my father?” He asked hopefully, he was sure now that he could get more information from the ‘crazy old mechanic’ than from his own family.

“I told you to forget about it!” He pointed a finger at Jimmy emphatically, “Your **only** concern is to get those droids ready tomorrow. In the morning, I want them out there working on those condensers. Bright and early.”

Jimmy looked down at his plate, “Yes sir.” After a few moments of silence, his uncle seemed to relax, and the atmosphere improved phenomenally. He decided to change the subject off of his father, if he continued, it would just make the rest of the night worse, “I think the new droids will work out great. In fact, I, um, I was thinking about our agreement; you know, for me staying on another season? Because…if these droids work out, I could put my application into the Academy.”

His Uncle Roger failed to hide his scowl, and Jimmy’s hopes sunk, “You mean the next semester before the harvest.”

“Yeah,” Jimmy said quietly, “There’s more than enough droids now.”

“The harvest is when I need you the most, Jimmy.” His uncle sighed, taking on a more cajoling tone, “Look, one more season. This year, we’ll make more than enough on the harvest, and I’ll be able to hire more hands. You can go to the Academy next year.”

Jimmy pushed around some food on his plate, losing his appetite completely. Quietly he said, “You said that five years ago.”

After a long pause, his uncle said, “You’ve got to understand, Jimmy. I need you here.”

Jimmy nodded; then pushed his plate away as he stood, it was time to get some answers, one way or another. His aunt frowned, “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” _In more ways than one,_ Jimmy thought. “I have to finish cleaning the droids.”

She watched as he trudged out of the room, making his way to the garage and pursed her lips. Roger resumed finishing his meal, while Amelia folded her hands on the table, “Roger, you can’t make him stay here forever. Most of his friends are already gone; he needs to get on with his life.”

“I’ll make it up to him next year, I promise.”

Amelia shook her head, “Jimmy isn’t a farmer, Roger. He’s too much like his father.”

“That’s what bothers me.”

* * *

Jimmy watched the twins suns slink steadily below the horizon; the sand glittered like a thousand diamonds at the merest brush of moonlight. The mesas and boulders were painted violet and rose; Jimmy had to admit, there was beauty in the desert. He loved his home, but he wasn’t so sure it **was** his home any longer. Out there in the galaxy, there lived someone who looked just like him, sounded just like him; his family, and yet a perfect stranger all the same. In their little farm, lived two people he trusted more than life itself, two people that promised to take care of a child that wasn’t theirs, both kept a fairly large secret from him for years.

His life was a lie.

* * *

He walked into the garage with a sinking feeling, the robots were nowhere in sight. He took a small box similar to the one the Jawas carried out of his utility belt, and activated it. It hummed lowly, he heard a rumble, and Chuck3PO popped up out of the darkness, “Gah!”

“What are you doing?”

Chuck3PO stumbled towards him, hands upraised, “I’m sorry, sir, it wasn’t my fault. Please don’t deactivate me or take me apart! I **told** her not to go, but she’s malfunctioning or something, she kept mumbling about her mission.”

“Shit."

They raced out of the garage, hoping they could get to the little droid before she got into anymore trouble. They stopped short just outside, Jimmy clearly eager to go after the droid, but reluctant. His shoulders slumped in defeat, sighing.

“That R2 unit has always been a problem. Those astro-droids are such a handful; I can’t even understand their logic sometimes.”

“Argh, I’m such an idiot! She’s nowhere in sight. **Damn it**!”

“Can’t we just go after her?”

“Not with all the Sandpeople around, it’s too dangerous. We’re going to have to wait until morning to find her.”

“Jimmy!” His Uncle Roger called from the homestead, “I’m shutting the power down for the night!”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes!” He called back, and to the droid he groaned, “I’m in for it now.” He looked once more in the distance, and sighed, “You know, that little droid is going to get me in a lot of trouble.”

“She’s good at that, Jimmy.”

* * *

Dawn broke upon the horizon, the skies fiery with the golden rays of the twin suns. The sand sparkled, the breeze gently wafted, and all was quiet and peaceful. The warm glow of the kitchen illuminated the space as Amelia set the table and finished the morning meal. Roger settled down with a sigh, asking, “Have you seen Jimmy this morning?”

“He said he had some things to do this morning, so he left early.”

“Did he take those droids with them to get their memories wiped?”

“I believe so, dear.”

“He’s better have them out in the south range by midday or there with be Hell to pay.”

* * *

The surrounding Tattooine landscape was a blur of beiges and browns as they raced after the little droid in Jimmy’s beat up Landspeeder. They got so far out, that Jimmy was starting to get a little worried, “Old Bobby Singer lives out here somewhere, but I can’t see how Becky2 got out here this far. We had to have missed her-Wait, there’s something dead ahead on the scanner! It looks like our droid, hit the accelerator.”

* * *

Unbeknownst to the human and robot, they were being watched by the very people that they were trying to avoid. The Tusken Raiders, nicknamed by the humans as Sandpeople, were notorious around Tattooine of being cruel hunters and scavengers. Everyone knew to stay around them, and everyone knew to stay away from their land, or anywhere close to their land, they were very territorial.

It was a small hunting party of two, and they watched at the top of the ravine behind a few boulders as the small human craft sped past. One of the raiders raised his gun, pointing it at the human, only to be stopped by his comrade. They argued heatedly, deciding to move closer, and find out exactly where they are going. They could lead them somewhere they could get supplies, or weapons.

* * *

Jimmy jumped out of the Landspeeder as they came upon the little droid, looking furtively back and forth while strapping his laser rifle on his back, “Just where do you think you’re going, Becky2?” He was anxious to get the droid into his speeder and back home before anything worse happened.

She whistled a feeble reply; and Chuck3PO huffed in annoyance, his hands on his hips, “Jimmy here is your owner now. We are not going to listen to anymore of this ‘Robert Singer’ bullshit…and **don’t** start whining to me about your mission, either. You’re lucky he doesn’t blast you into a million tiny pieces right now.”

“We’d better get going; I’ve got to get you guys back there before Uncle Roger starts looking for us.”

“I suggest we turn this little fugitive off until we get back to the garage, Jimmy.”

Jimmy shook his head, staring down at the little robot, “No, I don’t think she’s going to try anything else right now.” He was pretty sure she got his drift, when she beeped lowly in reply.

As they made for the speeder, she stopped suddenly and let out frantic screeches. She rocked from side to side as Chuck3PO and Jimmy turned to look at her in amazement. Jimmy frowned, “What’s with her?”

Chuck3PO cocked his head and leaned closer to the little droid, “Oh..uh, she says that there are a group of creatures coming up from the southeast.”

Jimmy swung his rifle into position, “Raiders…or worse. I’m going to scout ahead to make sure, they shouldn’t be out here so close to other farmsteads.”

He carefully made his way to the top of the ravine; scanning the area with binoculars, he spotted two rider-less banthas, the Tusken Raiders’ mounts. Chuck3PO sidled up next to him, and Jimmy whispered, “I see two banthas down there, but no riders…” He gasped, gripping the binoculars tighter, “They’re down there, I can see one of them now.”

Suddenly, a great mass looms in front of his vision, and looking up, Jimmy stared into the fathomless eye-holes of the raider’s helmet. Chuck3PO, taken by surprise, fell off the side of the ravine. Jimmy fell back, the rock behind him blocking any further movement as the raider shoved his gaffistick dangerously close to his face. His blood turned to ice; so many thoughts ran through his head at the prospect of his impending death. Nobody knew he was out this far, save the two new droids that got lost in the desert. So much for worrying about what his uncle would say when he got home. The raider stood above him, raising his stick over his head, and letting out a terrifying cackle that echoed throughout the ravine.

* * *

Becky2 shoved herself into a small alcove made naturally by the rocks surrounding her, watching as the two vicious raiders carried the unconscious form of Jimmy. They dropped him in a heap beside his speeder, immediately setting to work on ransacking it, parts and various objects tossed and flung about. After a few minutes of scavenging, a slight sound made the raiders freeze; there was silence, only for a moment as two loud blasts erupted from a little ways off. It sounded like a great crack of thunder, and the raiders who were easily fooled, scurried to their mounts in great haste, believing there was a storm brewing.

She scooted back a little further as a hooded man walked up to Jimmy’s form, setting his rather fearsome looking rifle next to him. He pulled back his hood, revealing the visage of a tanned bearded man, with friendly brown eyes. He looked down at Jimmy, as if he knew the young man, and knew the reason why he came so far out.

“Come on out here, ya idgit. No need to be scared.” Becky2 beeped tentatively before scooting near Jimmy. The older man gently laid his hand on Jimmy’s forehead.

The older man pulled back as Jimmy frowned, coming to with a groan, “What happened?”

“Settle down now, son, you’ve had enough for one day. You’re lucky you’re still alive.” He said gruffly.

Jimmy sat up, “Bobby? Bobby Singer! You will not believe how glad I am to see you!”

“This place is too dangerous, Jimmy. What are you doing this far out?”

“This droid,” He gestured to the robot, who scooted a bit closer, “She’s trying to find her former master, Robert Singer. It’s safe to say that you are who she is looking for. She left the garage around nightfall before I could bring her to you. There is a recording that asks specifically for your help, and I had some questions of my own.”

“Robert Singer…I don’t go by that name now, call me Bobby. I’ve never had a droid, so I don’t know what she’s talking about. We’ll figure it out when we get to shelter. The Sandpeople may get spooked easily, but they will be back, with friends.” He helped Jimmy up, and settled the little droid into the speeder. He picked up his rifle, and gathered up what parts they could find that fell off of Chuck3PO, settling everything in the speeder and racing off towards his hovel.

Jimmy was nonplussed at the thought of actually entering a supposed crazy man’s hovel, and equally as mystified at the amount of speeders and other transports that were in various states of repair in front of his dwelling. He didn’t have any other choice, didn’t really care as long as it was inside and away from the Sandpeople. The space was cluttered with various objects that Jimmy knew were not resident to Tatooine. The mysteries revolving around this man grew murkier with every object that caught the young man’s eye.

* * *

“So tell me about this recording you mentioned. Do you know who it’s from, did it say?” Bobby sat on a nearby bench, motioning the little droid to him who eagerly scooted closer. He looked her dome over carefully, clicking his tongue at the obvious damage.

As he watched the older man work on the droid, Jimmy shrugged, “I only saw part of the message, I guess he was-”

“I found it.”

The hologram flickered on again, and Jimmy watched in amazement as the figure stood calmly before them, clasping his hands in a loose grip, “General Singer, many years ago you assisted my father in the Clone Wars, now he pleads for your help in our struggle with the Galactic Host. It is my deepest regret to not give you his request in person, my ship has fallen under attack and I fear that my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed. I have embedded information vital to the Rebellion into this R2 unit, my father will know how to retrieve it. I beseech your help to find this droid safely back to him, this is our gravest hour. Help me Robert Singer, you are my only hope.”

There was a short sound of static before the image completely faded away, leaving the room in total silence. Bobby leaned back, lost in thought as he folded his arms over his chest. Jimmy was stunned to say the least, frozen in place, the image of Prince Castiel burned into his retinas.

He gulped, the only thing coming out of his mouth was, “He looks **just like me**.”

“He would. He’s your twin brother.” Bobby replied quietly.

Jimmy stood suddenly, running his hands roughly through his hair, “Why? Why keep this a secret?! He’s my **brother**!”

“Which you never knew about until just now when I confirmed it.” Bobby shook his head, “If we did our job right, you would have never known about him.”

Jimmy exhaled slowly, sitting down quickly as it felt like his knees were giving out under him, “But…why?”

“To keep you safe, son.” Bobby shook his head and sighed, “It’s a very long story, one I don’t want to rehash.”

“That doesn’t tell me a damn thing. You owe me an explanation, Bobby.”

The older man made a face, “I don’t owe you squat, kid. I did what I did to keep you safe. You can’t tell me that as soon as I told you that when you had the chance that you wouldn’t take the next transport out of this place to find your brother.”

Jimmy opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Jimmy gusted out a long breath, deflating, “Okay, I guess you are right. Can you tell me…anything?”

“Why don’t you just ask a question, and I’ll see if I want to answer it or not.”

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed, “You fought in the Clone Wars?”

The older man nodded, “Yeah, I was a Jedi Knight, same as your father.”

“My uncle told me my father wasn’t in any wars; he was a navigator on a spice freighter.” Jimmy intoned quietly. He didn’t mean to deny the truth of what the older man was saying, he just had a hard time believing that he was a war hero’s son. His whole life revolved around harvesting water, it wasn’t something that songs were made from.

Bobby shook his head sighing, “He didn’t agree with your father’s views; saw no reason to get involved in any ‘fool missions’ that came along. Didn’t sit well with your uncle that he fought in the Clone Wars; didn’t sit too well with anyone in fact.”

Jimmy looked away from him, saying softly, “I wish I knew him.”

“He was the best star-pilot in the galaxy and a clever fighter. He was a good man, a great friend.” Bobby looked at him for a moment, shrewdly appraising Jimmy, “Which reminds me-” He stood from his seat and made his way over to a storage box. Jimmy frowned as he watched the older man take a out a slender metallic handle which he then brought to Jimmy, “Your father wanted you to have this when you got old enough to use it. I kept it for safe-keeping when your uncle made it known he wasn’t going to allow it in the house. Thought you might take after your father and get roped into some crusade you won’t be coming back from.”

Jimmy looked at it in surprise, handling it in his grip gently. This was the only thing he had of his father, and he didn’t even know what it was for, “What is it?”

“It was your father’s lightsaber, the only weapon used by a Jedi Knight.” Bobby watched fondly as Jimmy ignited the blade. The bright blade illuminated the room in a bright blue glow, the blade humming softly, vibrating the very air around him. Bobby grinned, “For over a thousand generations, the Jedi were the keepers of peace throughout the galaxy. But that was before the culling, long before the Host came into play.”

_With a weapon like this,_ “How did my father die?” He extinguished the blade as Bobby frowned.

“Darth Zayder. He was a former student of mine before he went dark side, helped the Host hunt down and destroy the Jedi Knights, and now the Jedi are almost extinct. He betrayed and murdered your father. He was…I would say, ‘seduced’ by the dark side of the Faith.”

Jimmy’s head tilted, “The Faith?”

“The Faith is what gives a Jedi their power, an energy field created by all living things, it surrounds us, give us the will to keep going. It binds the galaxy together, or at least, it used to.” He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees after a long pause, “I will have to teach you the ways of the Faith if you’re coming with me to Alderaan.”

Jimmy shifted, “But, I-”

“I thought you wanted to find your brother, reconnect with him. We both need your help, and you **need** to get out of here, find your own way.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to go with you, I do, more than you know. It’s just…I can’t.” He huffed, “I can’t leave them in a bind like this. To just leave, without-”

“You want to harvest water for the rest of your life?” The older man interrupted, “‘Cause that’s what’s going to happen if you stay here.”

Jimmy looked down at the lightsaber, turning it in his hands. It was so unlike him to jump at the first offer out of his situation, he was usually plagued with guilt at the mere thought of leaving the planet entirely. His dreams for something better seemed like just vague fantasies, until now. However, he couldn’t pretend yesterday never happened, that he didn’t see the recording that literally rocked his very foundation. He had to find his brother, to learn more about his parents and about the Faith.

He had to become more than just Jimmy Novak.

“Okay. I’ll go.” Jimmy put the hilt in his belt and stood, “But I have to tell my aunt and uncle. I owe them that much.”

Bobby nodded, “I know a very skilled pilot in Anchorhead, he’ll bring us to Alderaan. They will be able to repair your droid, too.” He nodded at Chuck3PO, who decided to shut down after he became face-to-face with his feet. Jimmy cringed inwardly, they didn’t have the droid for a full day before he let him fall apart. “After we talk to your family, we’ll visit the cantina. He’ll no doubt be buried in booze and women.”

Jimmy frowned, “Isn’t that a little reckless?”

Bobby barked a laugh, “One thing you will learn about my pilot is, Dean Winchester and reckless go hand in hand. Like Wookies and weird smells, or his brother and…weird smells.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, enjoyed and commented. This chapter has been edited on August 21, 2016. There will definitely more ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A small group of Galactic generals congregated in the meeting room of the Morning Star, clearly in the midst of an argument about the Rebel Hunters. The Storm troopers were gathered around the room, hands on their weapons just in case something went terribly wrong, considering the Host, one could never be too careful.

An older officer slapped his hand on the table set in front of him in frustration, “This battle station is not fully operational, and until it is, we are too helpless against the Rebel Hunters. They have the clear advantage, and are far more dangerous than you realize.”

A younger officer squirmed angrily in his chair, “Dangerous to you, Commander, but not to this battle-station.”

The other officer shook his head in aggravation, it was beyond him how these men, these commanders of a military organization, could be so blind, “The Rebel Hunters will gain more sympathy in the Imperial Senate, as long as-” He was interrupted as the door swished open, revealing Darth Zayder and Governor Uriel. They marched silently into the room and ignored the generals as they stood and bowed before their commanders.

“The Imperial Senate is of no concern of ours any longer; I have received word that the Emperor has dissolved the council permanently. The last of the old Republic has been washed away.” The governor intoned.

“But that’s impossible!” The officer exclaimed, “How will the Emperor hope to maintain control without a government?”

Uriel smirked, “The Imperial Host now has direct control over the territories. Fear will keep them in line; fear in us and in this battle station.”

“What about the rebellion, then? If the Rebel hunters have truly attained the complete technical readout of this battle station and somehow figured out a weakness, they are sure to exploit it.”

Zayder exhaled with a metallic hiss, “The plans you are referring to will soon be back in our possession in due time.”

The younger officer pursed his lips in annoyance, leaning over the table at Lord Zayder, “Any attack made by the Rebel Hunters would be a futile gesture, no matter what data they could obtain. This battle station is now the supreme power in the universe, I propose we **use** it!”

Lord Zayder squared his shoulders, “I wouldn’t be too quick to congratulate yourself just yet, officer. The ability to obliterate a planet is irrelevant next to the power of the Faith.”

The officer snorted, “Don’t try to terrorize us with your mysterious ways, Lord Zayder. Your pathetic devotion to that archaic religion hasn’t assisted you in conjuring the stolen data, or the foresight to find the Rebel Hunter’s hidden fort-” His words were stopped suddenly as he started choking, quickly turning blue, as Lord Zayder’s hand clenched tightly in mid-air.

“I find your lack of Faith upsetting.”

Uriel put his hand on Zayder’s arm, “Enough, my lord. I believe he gets your point.”

The Dark Lord lowered his arm, stepping back, “Certainly.” He tired of these officers, sitting around, playing at running the universe. He looked over at his companion, trusting him to take care of the formalities, before he started smiting everyone in the room.

Uriel nodded minutely, “This arguing is senseless. Lord Zayder will provide us with the Rebel Hunter’s base in due time, once he deems this station fully operational. In one swift stroke, we will smite the Rebel Hunters once, and for all.”

* * *

Jimmy’s speeder stopped in front of the wreckage of the Sandcrawler, its great hulking mass smoldering. They exited the vehicle carefully, poking through the remains and gathering the small bodies. Bobby started a small fire, advising Jimmy and Chuck 3PO to burn them. Jimmy didn’t understand the reasoning behind his instructions, however since this man was a supposed war hero, there was surely a reason behind it.

After clearing the site, Jimmy joined Bobby, “I don’t get this, it certainly looks like the Sand People did this. There’s gaffi sticks, Bantha tracks…but I just never heard of them doing something like this before.”

Bobby crouched down, observing the tracks with a furrowed brow, “Because they didn’t do it. We’re supposed to think they did, these tracks here? They’re side-by-side; Sand People ride single file to hide their numbers.”

With a sick feeling in his gut, Jimmy whispered, “These are the same Jawas that sold my family the droids.”

Bobby nodded to the wreckage, “And those blast points, too accurate for the Sand People. Only the Imperial Storm troopers are trained that precise.”

Jimmy looked back at the droids, his heart beating wildly in his chest, “If they traced the droids here, then they had to have learned who they sold them to. That’d lead them home.” Jimmy turned and ran to the speeder, quickly jumping into it.

“Wait, Jimmy!” Bobby called after him, “It’s too dangerous-” He sighed as the younger man sped off, leaving him alone with the smoking ruins and the two droids, “Idgit.”

With a heartfelt sigh, the older man pulled out a silver communicator out of his belt, punching the button that would connect him to the only two people that could, and most likely would, help them.

* * *

Jimmy drove as fast as he possibly could, his heart pounding against his ribcage at just the mere thought of what he would find when he got back to the ranch. His hands were shaking as he approached his smoking home, his blood running cold. He stopped the speeder and jumped out, panting from fear as he called for his family, “Uncle Roger! Aunt Amelia! **Uncle Roger**!”

He jogged around the corner of their homestead, desperately hoping his family was alive and well. He fell to his knees, the breath punching out of his chest in horror as he witnessed the charred remains of his family. He looked around at the only place he had ever felt safe, feeling as though along with his family, his life was burnt to ash.

* * *

Prince Castiel sat anxiously on the bench inside his cell, he had already paced the room more times than he could count, and he was no sooner finding a way out of the Morning Star than he was going to sprout wings and fly. He sighed and plunged his hands through his hair realizing there was no way out of this. The Imperial Host would never stop until they got what they wanted, until the universe burned. He straightened as his cell door opened, revealing the fearsome Lord Zayder and his gruesome torture droid. He gulped in sudden dread, they had very creative ways to find the truth from people, and most of them didn’t make it through the process alive. Though he was willing to die for the cause, he was loathe to reveal anything that could jeopardize the Hunters.

He could feel the self-satisfaction that seemed to pollute the air around Lord Zayder, the raspy voice dripped with smugness, “I’m going to make a deal with you.”

Castiel frowned and growled, “I don’t make deals with the Host.”

“I think you will make an exception.” As Castiel leaned back, Zayder folded his black leather encased arms, “Join us, Castiel.” He had to stifle a chuckle as the young man’s head reared back in indignation, “We’ll take you back home, spare your family’s life, and the lives of the people on your planet. As long as they disband, I’ll even persuade the Emperor to leave the Rebel Hunters alone. The Host will just pretend this little rebellion never happened. No harm, no foul.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“It is a fair deal, I don’t make them lightly.” At the prince’s stony look, he shifted his hands to his hips, “That’s your answer? No?”

“No.”

Lord Zayder shook his head, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

The door swung closed as the droid moved closer to the prince.

* * *

The speeder cruised jerkily up to Bobby, stopping suddenly as Jimmy launched himself out of the driver’s seat, “Did you know? Did you know what was going to happen?” As Bobby opened his mouth to talk, the young man grabbed him by his cloak, “Did you know my family was dead?!”

“Hey!” Bobby said sharply. He removed Jimmy’s hands and grabbed his shoulders, “When it comes to the Host, all bets are off. Look, there’s nothing you could have done, had you been there, you would’ve died right along with them.” It hurt to give the kid such a big dose of reality but his kin left him too long on the farm, Jimmy had no idea how cruel the universe could be. 

Jimmy pulled away from him, visibly trying to get himself under control. When he calmed enough, he faced the older man, smoke curling around them both as he said quietly, “I’ll go with you to Alderaan. There’s nothing for me here anymore.” His fists clenched, “Teach me everything you know, I want to be a Jedi, like my father.”

Bobby nodded sadly; this wasn’t the way he wanted the young man to learn about his heritage, not for revenge, but the boy was feeling too raw for Bobby to try and sway him, “Sure, kid. Let’s get out of here.” They loaded into the speeder, the droids behind them as they set off for the spaceport.

They stopped the speeder just outside Mos Eisley, the spaceport in which they would find their pilot to take them to Alderaan. Jimmy walked up to Bobby as he stood on the cliff overlooking the spaceport, adjusting the goggles on his head. The port below them was a haphazard mix of shelters. Being the desert, it was bound to look like some kind of refugee camp.

“Mos Eisley spaceport…never thought I would ever come back to this place again. You’ve never seen a crappier place than this, better stay close and keep your mouth shut.”

* * *

They soon had to slow, and then stop on the crowded street in front of two storm troopers. Jimmy scanned the surrounding area out of the corner of his eye; the place was crawling with the white-armored soldiers. The two before them sidled up to the speeder, keeping their blasters well in sight as one of them questioned Bobby, “How long have you had these droids?”

Jimmy coughed, “A-About four or five seasons now, sir.” He figured he should be polite, these weren’t the kind of people anyone should mess around with, and his uncle always told him to be courteous to the military.

“They’re for sale if you want ‘em.” Bobby grinned.

“Let me see your identification.” The man sounded bored, but it didn’t stop Jimmy from becoming very nervous, fumbling for his identification.

Bobby leisurely waved his hand, “You don’t need to see his identification.” Jimmy froze and looked at the older man as if he grew another head.

Only to gape again as the man repeated naturally, “We don’t need to see his identification.”

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” Bobby intoned lowly.

The officer shook his head, saying to his companion, “These aren’t the droids we’re looking for.”

“Move along.” Bobby grinned, settling back in his seat.

“Move along.” The officer said impatiently, indicating with his rifle, “Move along.”

They pulled up in front of a run-down cantina on the outskirts of town, and away from any type of military surveillance. They climbed out of their vehicle, Jimmy shooing away a Jawa that decided to creep up to them to fondle the speeder gleefully.

“I didn’t think we were going to get past those troopers.” Jimmy shook his head in amazement.

“Those idjits?” Bobby snorted, “The weak-minded are no match for the power of Faith, son.”

As they took their place in line to get into the cantina, Jimmy folded his arms and asked, “So, this Dean-guy, is he reliable?”

“He’s one of the best pilots I know. Watch your step in here, though, this place is pretty rough.”Bobby made sure the droids stayed by the speeder, they would catch undue attention in the cantina, attention that they really couldn’t afford.

They entered the smoky, raucous bar, filled nearly to the brim with all manner of patrons. From slimy to scaly, they were gathered together, huddled over their drinks, some grouping into little groups and muttering in their native tongue. Bobby hustled him to the bar, and sat him down on the stool, “Stay here, and keep quiet.” He then hurried off to speak with a very tall and muscular man in a corner.

“What’ll it be, kid?”

Jimmy, startled, looked at the harried woman behind the counter, “Um, I’ll-”

“You have this,” she interrupted, plunking a glass of brew he knew that his uncle drank on occasion. Knowing full well he shouldn’t accept drinks from strangers, he still picked it up and took a sip. His lips didn’t burn, nor did anything else for that matter, so he figured he would be safe drinking it.

* * *

“Sam, it’s good to see you.” Bobby said with a smile.

“Hey, Bobby,” The hulking man before him broke into a sparkling smile, “Long time, no see.” After their father died, Bobby took the two boys and raised them. Tattooine wasn’t the best of places to raise children, being far away from any civilized planet, and rife with criminals. They made it the best that they could, and the two boys couldn’t have turned out better in Bobby’s opinion.

His smile faded, he really hated asking this of the boys, “I wish this was under better circumstances, kid. I couldn’t tell you much over the transmission, but the Host is after a friend of mine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, that kid over there?” He nodded to the nervous young man sitting at the bar. Sam frowned slightly, giving Bobby a look, “He’s why I couldn’t leave Tattooine. I had to make sure that no one was going to come after him.”

Sam glanced him, then back to Bobby, “You mean he’s the kid you used to tell us about? That whole ‘twin’ story?”

“Yeah. I thought I would have more time, but it seems like Faith has a different plan for him. He found the rest of his family today. The Host is gunnin’ for him, something fierce.”

“The homestead?”

“Torched, just like I thought it would be.” Bobby sighed, “If I could just get him to Alderaan, get him away from the Host-”

“No matter what you do Bobby,” Sam cajoled, “no matter where you take him, if the Host wants him, they’re gonna find him.”

“I **know** that.” Bobby said impatiently, “But I was supposed to take care of him, get him away from all of that. I’ll be **damned** if I abandon him now.” He looked up in time to see the young man start to get hassled by the resident wildlife, “Aw, hell.”

* * *

Jimmy leaned on the counter, looking at either side of him, surveying the cantina as best as he could while trying to stay unobtrusive. He was taken aback as a creature suddenly got into his face, and screamed at him in its own language. The creature was obviously drunk, so Jimmy turned back to his drink, getting a rough shove for his trouble. A shorter man joined his companion, shoving himself into his personal space, “He really doesn’t like you.”

“I’m sorry?” Jimmy backed up a few steps.

“I don’t like you either,” The man growled. “You best watch yourself, we’re wanted men. We got the death sentence on twelve systems.”

He was saying that as though he was proud, which bothered the young man, “I’ll…be careful then.”

Obviously trying to calm them down, he thought that maybe he should have played it up a bit more, for the man grabbed him, “You’ll be dead!”

Bobby shouldered his way through the gathering crowd, putting a hand on the man’s arm, “This kid ain’t worth your time, lemme buy you a drink-”

The next few events happened so fast, that Jimmy didn’t exactly know what hit him. With a powerful shove, Jimmy was flung across the room, landing with such force that he saw stars. The foul creature that started everything took out a laser pistol, aiming it at the older man’s head. Bobby whipped out his lightsaber quickly, swiftly slicing the man’s arm from the rest of his body before he could fire off a shot.

He stood there for a moment, his saber humming, daring anyone else to come closer. After a few moments, he extinguished his saber, clipping it silently to his belt. The bar quickly went back to its original volume, and the other patrons decided to give the older man a wide berth. Jimmy stood, rubbing his head, suddenly very grateful he had Bobby on his side.

He joined Bobby at the bar, noticing the very fearsome looking man. He was rather intimidating; the bandolier stretching across his chest did nothing to take the focus away from the massive laser-bow strapped to his back. His clothes were dusty and worn, a few days’ stubble and over-grown hair framed his surprisingly young face. Jimmy felt distinctly diminished as he stood next to the man; he wasn’t used to having to look up so far to look someone in the eye.

“This is Sam Winchester,” Bobby introduced proudly. “He’s the first-mate on the ship that is going to bring us to Alderaan.”

* * *

Chuck3PO stood outside the cantina, nervously watching the streets, and the ruffians milling about. He didn’t like the look of the creature that scurried out of the cantina, darting up to a Storm Trooper that was standing nearby. They talked for a few moments, the creature gesturing to the cantina and making chopping motions with his hand, knowing exactly who they were talking about. Jimmy seemed to attract trouble.

He looked over at BeckyD2 in dread, “That doesn’t look good. Craaaaap.”

* * *

Dean Winchester settled in a dark booth in the back of the cantina next to the rear exit, facing the doorway to watch for any troublemakers; just like his daddy had taught him. He slowly swiveled the drink before him, some kind of dark liquid that was trying to taste like the barley brew from Corellia, but failing miserably.

He made a beeline to Tattooine as soon as Sam told him that Bobby called, needing them. He was too focused on their mission to listen to the transmission Bobby had sent. The mission involved smuggling a fairly large shipment of spice that could get him out of his deal with a local crime boss, but from the looks of his baby brother, whatever Bobby needed them for was more important. Not that Bobby ever entertained in idle chit-chat, but for Sam to look like he’d just seen a ghost; it made his decision that quick.

He stretched his arms out on the back of the seat, reclining in an elegant sprawl as his brother led their surrogate father and a young man over to him. The position showcased his rangy frame, and the blaster strapped to his side, a clear warning to any that wanted to screw with him at the moment. Sam settled beside him, while the older man and his companion slid into the seat across from him.

“Dean Winchester,” he said to the younger man, of course Bobby already knew him for many years now. “So, Chewie here tells me you need to get to the Alderaan system. What’s your name?”

“I’m Jimmy,” he answered with a gulp, wide eyes trained on the shining blaster, “Jimmy Novak.”

“Jimmy Novak,” Dean repeated back slowly, “I can’t believe I abandoned a job to babysit-”

“What did I **tell**  you about getting involved in your daddy’s dealings?”Bobby growled.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about that right now,” Dean growled back, bristling at the mention of his father, “Just get to the point Bobby, I’m a busy man, and you’re not one to just call to check up on us unless it was something really bad or really important. Which is it?”

“Both.”

Dean relaxed, nodding, “We’ve heard some things. So I take it does involve the kid, right?”

“I’m sitting right here!”

“Pipe down,” Dean snapped. “You want everyone to hear us?” After Jimmy calmed, Dean looked back to Bobby, “You must be pretty desperate to call us.”

“This has nothing to do with me being desperate.” Bobby sighed, “It’s unfinished business. I trust you guys to help, if not, I’ll find someone else.”

Dean’s cocky smile disappeared, “Of course you can trust us, Bobby. I just need to know the basics, and how bad this is.”

“Thanks, son. And yeah, it’s bad.”

Dean nodded, “Cargo?”

“Just me, the kid, and two droids.” Bobby knocked back the rest of his drink, “No more questions about it, the less you know, the better. I’ll explain everything later, boys. Just remember that there is always a reason, and that we need to avoid the Host at all costs.”

Dean leaned forward, “It would be nice to get everything out in the open, Bobby. Anyway,” he stretched a calloused hand across the table, “we’ll be honored to help. We’ll get you to Alderaan in no time.”

Jimmy tentatively shook the man’s hand, “Is it a fast ship, then?”

“Fast ship?” Dean spluttered, and Sam quickly hid his grin with his drink, “The Millennium Impala is only ship that made the Kessel Run in twelve parsecs!” When it was clear that Jimmy was nonplussed by that information, Dean leaned his forearms on the table, “I’ve out run Imperial starships, and not the bulk-cruisers, mind you. I’m talking about those big Corellian cruisers, now. That fast enough for you, kid?”

Jimmy grinned at the other man, “I guess we’ll just have to deal with it.”

Dean glared at Sam as the bigger man snorted into his drink. His green eyes quickly flicked to the entrance of the cantina, as a Strom trooper walked through with the creature that left not more than just a few minutes ago. “Looks like we’ve got company.” He turned back to their new clients, “I suggest you disappear for a bit, we’re at docking bay ninety-four, we go when you’re ready.”

Bobby nodded, “Docking bay ninety-four.” The four of them separated ways, Bobby and Jimmy ducked out through the back exit, while the brothers switched to the booth on the other side, hunching over their drinks so as not to attract attention.

* * *

Bobby and Jimmy hurried down the alleyway behind the cantina, making a loop around to meet back up with the droids. Jimmy leaned against the bumper of his speeder while Bobby folded his arms, looking out into the square, “So, what are you going to do with your speeder? Have a friend that could take care of it for you until you can get it back?”

Jimmy looked down at the dusty, red finish, remembering when he first got the thing, he was so happy. His aunt and uncle fought over just what kind of speeder he should get, one wanted him to get something safe, while the other wanted him to have something that would last. It got so heated, that the two ended up not speaking to each other for the rest of the day. It seemed so silly now, looking back, and he wished he could have that time back.

He sighed, patting the bumper gently, “Nah, I think I’m going to sell it. There’s nothing here for me anymore.”

Jimmy looked up as Bobby put a hand on his shoulder, then looking away quickly, wiping at his face. The older man would have done anything to turn back the clock and change everything that had happened, but it was better Jimmy go through losing his final connections to Tattooine, there was a long and bright future in store for the young man.

Bobby just hoped that he would still be alive to see the young man grow into his own.

* * *

Dean knew he should have joined his brother back on the ship, all he wanted was one last brew before getting the ship ready for their new assignment. His brother was only gone for a few moments, and the brew really wasn’t all that good, so Dean decided to pack it in and head to the docking bay. Only as he turned to leave, he saw Gordon standing right behind him, smirking at him like he was a funny joke. Gordon Walker was a devious bounty hunter, one who made a very bad reputation for being overly violent in his tasks, and his primary job was to ‘take care’ of those that over stepped their bounds.

The smuggler had a sinking feeling as to why Gordon of all people would show up on Tattooine, in the grittiest cantina that ever stood. As the man approached his table Dean's insides turned to lead. 

Gordon kept his laser-pistol at waist height, keeping it trained on the other man, “Where’s the fire, Winchester?”

Dean’s lips pursed, and sat back down in the booth, the hunter sliding in across from him, “I was actually on my way to see your boss. Tell Al I have his money.”

Gordon clicked his tongue, “It’s too late for that, Winchester. You know you should have paid him when you had the chance, but I guess all of you Winchesters like to live dangerously. Al’s put a price on your head so large, only a fool would pass it up.” He grinned, his white teeth flashing in the light, “Guess I’m just lucky I got to you first.”

Dean shifted and chuckled slightly, “Yeah, but I **got** the money, Gordon. I just need to set up a meet with Al.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that,” Gordon said, mockingly regretful, “But…if you give me the money, maybe I’ll forget I found you…”

Dean snorted, flicking at a smudge on the wall behind him, he felt strangely comfortable talking with Gordon, even with a blaster pointed at him, “Well, I don’t have it **on** me. Look, just tell Al-”

“Alastair is done with you,” The bounty hunter said seriously, the time for levity was over. “He’s got no time for smugglers who drop their payload at the first sign of the Host. “

“Oh come on, even **I** get boarded sometimes. I didn’t have a choice!”

Gordon shrugged, “You can explain to Al. He may only just take your brother as payment.”

Dean’s face froze completely, and he slowly inched his hand to the blaster strapped to his thigh, finger wrapping around the trigger, “Over my dead, smokin’ body.”

He’d be damned if Alastair or Gordon got their dirty hands on his baby brother. Dean and his father had known right away that little Sammy was different; he had a power about him, some irresistible quality that anyone meeting him had to partake in. It confused and frightened their father, who couldn’t understand a damn thing other than his ship and his hunt, which left caring for his brother up to Dean. The older brother didn’t mind taking care of the little boy, he was just his little Sammy, and nothing the boy would ever do would make Dean turn away from him. It was a lonely life, but one that Dean would never change.

Of course there were things in Dean’s life that he would change in a heartbeat if given the opportunity. Working for Alastair, for one thing, would be at the top of the list of things he would like to wipe out of his life. Daddy Winchester left a debt behind for his sons to pay, borrowing money from Alastair to fund Sammy’s schooling and their livelihood, a debt in which Dean wasn’t so sure he could pay. He spent the better part of ten years working for the crime boss, doing things that made Dean unable to sleep at times, making him feel less like a human being with each passing year.

“Well that’s the idea, man,” Gordon leaned back in his seat. “I’ve been waiting to kill a Winchester for a long time now. It would have been better if it was Sam, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Yeah,” Dean said slowly, “I’m sure you will.” Gordon looked shocked for a moment, the light dimming in his eyes as he slumped forward, his head hitting the table with a dull thud. Dean watched the body for a few moments, feeling the pressure of the inevitability of his situation, and he could easily tell that this would be him in only a few short years if he didn’t get out soon. “Goodbye, Gordon.”

He silently stood, sliding out of the booth and reattaching the blaster to his thigh. He smoothly walked out of the cantina, the patrons being none the wiser as he attached a silencer on the blaster just a few months ago. As he walked by the bartender, he flipped her a few coins, “For the mess.”

* * *

Governor Uriel stood with Lord Zayder in the middle of the conference room, arms folded tightly across his chest and looking out through the plastisteel window, “His resistance to the mind probe is substantial; I believe that it will take something drastic before we wring any information out of him.”

“Mind probes can only be successful when used on the weak-minded, Uriel.”

“But **why** does he have to be so difficult?” Uriel growled.

“Because he believes that he can change the fate of the galaxy,” Lord Zayder said beside him, “None of your pathetic attempts will ever break through that wall of righteousness.”

Their conversation was interrupted just as an officer walked up to them, “The final diagnostics are complete. All systems are fully operational, what course do we set?”

Uriel idly rubbed his chin in contemplation, “Perhaps he would respond to a more…radical form of persuasion?”

“Your meaning?”

“I think it is time to show our guest the full measure of this battle station.” He turned to the officer, “Set our course for Alderaan.”

* * *

Sam stood nervously at the entrance to the docking bay; he was already done with the Dean was already on his way back from the cantina, so that only left their cargo to join them. He stood at the opening of the docking bay, gripping his rifle in a nervous, sweaty grip. His anxiety only racketed up a few notches as he saw a small group of troopers searching the neighboring docking bays, looking for two droids that matched the descriptions of the ones that Bobby brought with him.

He didn’t notice the black robed figure behind him until it was too late, they must have followed them from the speeder parking lot, and Sam cursed his obliviousness. He fired a single blaster shot just as they spoke into transmitter, alerting the troopers to their presence.

“Dammit! Dean, gear her up!” He spoke into the small microphone attached to his collar, breathing a sigh of relief as their passengers hurried up to the docking bay, “Hurry guys! We’ve got a problem.”

Jimmy stopped in the middle of the large docking bay, looking incredulously at the old, beat-up ship, “Are you kidding me with this? What a piece of-”

“Don’t you dare finish that statement if you want to leave here alive,” Dean warned, striding down the boarding ramp of the ship. “My baby makes it past point five past light speed. She’s seen better days, but she makes up for it.”

“Yeah that’s all well and good, dude,” Sam said sarcastically as he rushed up the ramp, “but we better get a move on. Now.”

Their passengers made their way up into the ship, Dean looking at his brother in concern. Sam sighed and shook his head, “It’s nothing, don’t worry about me.”

They took their places in the cockpit as Jimmy and Bobby strapped themselves into their seats in the main room, nobody uttering a word through the tense silence. Sam hissed as troopers flooded the docking bay, firing their blasters at their ship. In just a few moments, they shot out of the docking bay, none the worse for wear. Dean hoped that this would be the most action they would be seeing on their little excursion, but something told him that would not be the case.

* * *

A large hologram of Alderaan shone before Governor Uriel, he stood beside Lord Zayder, studying the blue-hued surface with the intensity of a cobra stalking its prey. Soon, he would get the information needed to smite the uprising of the Rebel Hunters; they had been in the Imperial Host’s way for far too long. It was unfortunate before the civil war started that Uriel and Prince Castiel were comrades, he would mourn his good friend’s fate briefly before smiting him.

“We entered the Alderaan system, sir.”He nodded silently at the officer, and turned as the guards led Prince Castiel into the room.

He looked frail between the two armored guards, his hands bound before him and glaring at Uriel in betrayal, “Governor Uriel, I wish I was surprised that you are the one behind this. I could feel your presence the moment I was brought on board.”

Lord Zayder was grateful for the helmet that covered his features, because the sudden and shark-like grin that stretched across his face would have terrified the man standing beside him. Uriel had no idea what he was up against, who he had brought onto this ship, or how powerful the young prince was and could become. Lord Zayder knew however, it would only take some time, and some more persuasion for the young man to see things his way.

“You don’t understand how hard I found signing your death warrant,” Uriel intoned. “You could have joined us.” He smiled genially at the young prince, “I suppose we should thank you, you have just determined what planet we will be demonstrating our power on.” Castiel’s brow furrowed as Uriel continued, not noticing as Lord Zayder moved behind him, “Since you refuse to tell us what system where the Rebel base is located, we have decided to test our newfound power....on Alderaan.”

“No!” Cas screamed, struggling against Zayder’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him backwards, “We have no weapons! **Alderaan is peaceful!** ”

“You’d prefer a different target?” Uriel swooped down, face inches away from Castiel’s, his black eyes boring into his soullessly, “Then name the system!”

Castiel’s face froze, mouth clamping tightly. He couldn’t tell him where the Hunters were, it would undo everything he had worked all his life for, to free the galaxy. Though those people, his family, his whole life would be destroyed in one fell swoop if he didn’t give them what they wanted. Should he trade one sacrifice for another?

Uriel snarled, “I grow tired of your stubbornness, Castiel. I will ask you one last time. **Where is the Rebel Hunter base?** ”

Castiel shuddered as he overheard a computerized voice announce their approach to Alderaan, blurting, “Dantooine.” He lowered his head in shame, softly, “They’re on Dantooine.”

“See Lord Zayder?” Uriel smiled at him slowly, “Our little prince can be reasoned with.” He turned to the officer at the controls, “Proceed as planned, fire when ready.”

“What?!” His blue eyes widened, struggling more now, “No! Please!”

“You are far too trusting, my old friend.” Uriel shook his head, “Dantooine is too unimportant to be a successful target. Have no fear,” he leaned in closer to whisper in his ear, “we shall deal with your Hunter friends soon enough.”

Castiel’s eyes slipped shut in remorse, sagging under Lord Zayder’s hand. He failed; he did everything he possibly could do to keep his people safe, and all for nothing.

* * *

 

Bobby watched the boys as they trained, remembering the days when he did the very same things; Jimmy parried the short blasts from the tiny floating droid as best he could, only missing a few, hissing as they stung sharply. Dean sat at the table surrounded by various blasters and rifles, methodically and ritualistically cleaning the small metal parts, looking up and chuckling every time Jimmy missed a bolt. Sam on the other hand sat away from the rest, his eyes closed and his large hands resting on his knees, meditating.

If John Winchester knew that Bobby had been training his sons ever since he met them, the man would have killed him. John was never one to teach his boys about the Faith, his life was too hard and tragic for him to ever believe in anything other than his blaster and his ship. Bobby knew from the very beginning that the Winchester brothers had a bright destiny in store for them. Dean’s aura shone brightly with Faith, while Sam’s rippled with bridled power that was unmatched in many fully-knighted Jedi. To his bemusement, he wasn’t entirely sure that if approached by the Temple, if John ever would have let his children be trained, though it would have been better for them in the long run had they taken the boys as infants. By the time Bobby took them into his care, any trace of belief was burned out of the boys.

He had to be a little devious while training the boys, Dean was an excellent judge of character, if he caught even a slight whiff that something was off in Bobby’s interaction with either one of them, the boys would have disappeared completely. Sam had suffered from painful migraines as a child, unable to burn away the excess energy; Bobby taught him how to meditate to release that buildup into the Faith. Dean cracked that it was just an excuse for the boy to catch extra sleep, but Dean soon had training of his own.

The young man was unmatched in hand to hand combat, and was exceptional at tracking; he would have made an excellent scout in Bobby’s opinion. He had the most indomitable spirit, unbreakable considering the boy’s history at the time. He was almost there to achieving his full potential, if only he could break the pre-conceived notions his father gave him. The boy lacked concentration and focus, which was why Bobby stressed the importance of well cared for weapons, ship, and lodgings. The tasks were menial, but it kept Dean alert.

Bobby’s smile faded, a bolt of pain lancing through his chest. He paled, and grabbed onto the chair behind him. The bolt-barrel Dean was cleaning fell out of his hands as he hurried over to the older man, Sam’s eyes snapping open in alarm. Jimmy extinguished his light saber, standing back as Dean guided the older man to sit down, and moving aside as Sam brushed past him to get Bobby some water from their canteens.

As the older man waved the two boys away, Jimmy stepped closer, “What’s wrong Bobby? Are you going to be okay?” Dean went into the cockpit to run a few minor diagnostics on the ship, and checking the navigation, while Sam started a game of holographic chess with BeckyD2, watching Bobby through the corner of his eye in concern.

“I…felt a disturbance,” Bobby whispered in pain. “Like a million voices cried out in fear…then nothing.” He put a hand to his head, leaning an elbow on the counter beside him, entering a short healing trance for his aching head. He looked at Jimmy with a hard stare after a few moments, “Better get back to your training, kid.”

Jimmy stared him as he closed his eyes again, after hearing something like that, how could he just go back to his training like nothing happened?

Dean strode back into the main room and plopping into a seat beside Bobby’s, resting his hands behind his head, “Man, I am awesome. I just cut ten hours out of our travel time by getting us into hyperspace ahead of schedule; we’ll be in the Alderaan system in oh-two-hundred hours.” Dean pursed his lips as he received no response from his companions, “Don’t everyone thank me at once.”

He rolled his eyes and went back to his table full of blaster parts, intent on finishing his cleaning. Sam was engrossed in his chess game with the little droid, with Chuck3PO watching. They made a few short moves that set the youngest Winchester up to win, relaxing back in his seat and stretching his arms behind his head in satisfaction.

Before BeckyD2 could make a move, Chuck3Po whispered nervously, “Now, be careful,” making a significant look at the rugged man across the table from them. BeckyD2 beeped at him in annoyance and made her move, putting Sam in check. Sam gaped, sitting back up, “What the-But that’s not-you cheated!”

“How could she cheat?” Chuck3PO asked in annoyance. “That was a fair move buddy, whining about it isn’t going to help.”

“Just let him believe what he wants,” Dean interrupted, “not smart to upset a Wookie.”

“Ha. Ha.” Sam deadpanned.

Chuck3PO scoffed, “Yeah but nobody cares about upsetting a droid.”

Dean smiled, “Droids don’t rip peoples arms out of their sockets if **they** lose, Wookie’s are known to do that. Especially this one.”

“I’m not a freaking Wookie!”

“You’re hairy like one, you smell like one, you eat like one,” Dean counted off his fingers. “When it looks like a fish, swims like a fish…”

Sam rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of himself and slumped in his seat. Chuck3Po studied the man for a moment before nodding, “Let the Wookie win.”

“Whatever!” Sam exclaimed, standing up and walking out of the room in a huff, “You guys are dicks.”

* * *

They led the prince out of the control room, Zayder smirking at the dejected figure between the two burly guards. They had to hold the frail figure up, each gripping tightly to his upper arms. The pieces were falling into place quicker than he had imagined, but he was nonetheless satisfied. He had wanted to annihilate the people that had taken his son from him, only figuring out a year ago where exactly they had been keeping him. His son’s true identity wasn’t that hard to find out after that. He could easily sense Castiel in the council meetings and whenever they were on the same planet from that point forward. Zayder knew his son and he knew he would turn. To think, a planet that had no cause for war, no weapons, no means of defending themselves trying to keep the child separated from the very same man that destroyed the Old Republic only twenty-three years ago. Like he wasn’t going to hunt him down and turn the child to the Dark Side. It was almost laughable.

“Was it wise to conscript his death warrant?” Uriel asked, standing beside him.

“What wasn’t wise was for **you** to tell him of it,” Zayder answered softly. “I had a plan Uriel, and you almost ruined it with your incessant need to gloat.”

The governor stiffened beside him, and all grew quiet in the control room. The various officers grew nervous, glancing behind them warily, none of them wanted to attract the attention of the unpredictable commander.

Lord Zayder continued, “But all is not lost because of your slip. You are fortunate that you are still of worth to us, Governor, or I would have squeezed the life from you in a heartbeat.”

Uriel wasn’t sure if he should have been more concerned by the threat, or how pleasantly it was delivered. Trying desperately to save his situation, Uriel asked, “What do you suppose we do now? It isn’t like he would tell us anything now; he would gladly sacrifice himself for the good of the resistance.”

“We are going to show him that the Galactic Host is not the antagonist in this little plot the Rebel Hunters came up with.” Zayder nodded his head, “He will see the light, and he will be standing beside us as we crush the Rebel Hunters once and for all.”

* * *

Bobby and Jimmy decided to move the young man’s training from the confined living area of the ship, to the airy storage room. The older man could feel the coldness of the room through his robe, and cursed his age for the first time in a very long time. Space was always colder than any planet ever could be, but it never seemed to bother him in the slightest when he was young, and he figured that he was used to it. Zachariah certainly wasn’t as used to it; they had found him on Tattooine and brought him to the Jedi Temple.

 _That was so long ago,_ Bobby thought mournfully, watching Jimmy practicing his lightsaber forms. The boy reminded him so much of his former pupil, it made Bobby question his ability to train anyone properly in the Faith.

“Just remember,” he spoke with difficulty, a lump forming in his throat, “a Jedi can feel the Faith flowing through him.”

Was he himself cursed to lose the ones he cared for to the Dark Side?

“You mean it controls you?” Jimmy questioned, parrying the blows of the tiny droid floating around him.

Was his grief, his inability to control the roiling emotions inside himself from losing the ones dearest to him, the cause of Zachariah’s fall?

“At times it controls your actions,” Bobby corrected, “but ultimately, it bends to your will.”

Did he ultimately cause the Galactic Host to take over the galaxy?

He took a deep breath to calm himself as he felt Dean standing beside him with his arms folded; the boy always seemed to know when anyone he was close to was feeling down in any way, the fact that Dean always comforted the ones who needed it, brought a smile to the older man’s face.

“Yet a blaster solves every problem,” Dean smiled mockingly.

Jimmy extinguished his blade, “I take it you don’t believe in Faith.”

“Jimmy,” Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, making his way to a chair nearby, “I’ve traveled from one side of this galaxy to the other, and dude, I’ve seen a lot of crazy things.” He leaned over to face him in all seriousness with his elbows on his knees, “But not a god-damned thing I’ve seen made me believe that there’s some all-powerful force out there controlling anything.” He put his hands behind his head as he reclined in the chair, setting his feet on the counter beside him with a thump, “There’s no all-knowing energy field out there that rules my destiny.”

Bobby couldn’t help smiling quietly at Dean’s resolve; the boy had still a lot more to learn, “Let’s try something else.” He walked over to Jimmy and tied a bandanna around his eyes, “This time just relax and let your instincts take over.”

“Well, now I can’t see anything,” Jimmy laughed incredulously.

“Your eyes will play tricks on you,” Bobby clarified, “You can’t trust ‘em.”

Dean laughed as Jimmy started swinging wildly, the droid anticipating every move and swerved away accordingly. Swooping around behind him, it fired a laser bolt at the seat of his pants, Jimmy letting out a sharp cry.

Just before Jimmy turned to slice at the offending droid, Bobby interrupted, “Again. And this time, use your head.”

Jimmy bit his lip, before settling down in a fighting stance Bobby showed him before he started using the droid, freezing in place as the robot whirred around him. The tense silence filled the room, making Jimmy slightly self-conscious as he knew that Dean was watching. It was one thing for the older man to teach him and watch him train; it was yet all together something different when a battle-hardened skeptic stood there with his judging eyes.

Just as the droid made a sharp dive at him, he smoothly spun and deflected the bolt. It ceased fire and swung back into position. Bobby smirked, “See? I knew you could do it.”

Dean snorted, “Luck.”

“No such thing as luck, kid.”

“Whatever,” Dean huffed. “Look, going up against a droid is one thing, but going up against a living being is something else entirely.”

“You’re welcome to help you know.” Bobby suggested carefully.

“Not going to happen,” Dean answered easily. He turned to the flashing light on the console beside him, “Looks like we’re coming up on Alderaan.” He stood and walked to the cockpit, Bobby looking after him in slight disappointment, he didn’t know why he kept trying to hurry the boy.

Jimmy pushed up the bandanna as he came up to Bobby, “You know, I felt something back there…for a minute there it was like I could see the droid.”

Bobby grinned and slapped a hand on his shoulder, “That’s good, kid.”

* * *

“The Rebel Hunters surrendered.” Zayder said seriously, leaning against the far wall. “We let them know they had you to thank.”

Prince Castiel looked up blearily in his darkened cell, he wasn’t sure if what he was hearing was the truth, or another manipulation of Zayder’s. He wasn’t sure of anything any longer. After he refused to give them any more information, they ceased to ‘coddle’ the young man. When they finished with their daily interrogations, they chained him to the wall, bringing a ‘specialist’ in to see the error in refusal.

“I don’t believe you.” Castiel said with difficulty, shaking in his bonds. Blood dripped steadily down his forehead, mingling with sweat.

The prince didn’t exactly care what they did to him; he failed in his mission and soon believed that he deserved every punishment. He no longer tried fighting back, being futile in the long run; Zayder would always came in to stop them if it got too out of hand, and every day he would ask Castiel to join them, to stop the circle of pain.

“Believe what you want Castiel, but I would never lie to you. Not to you.” Zayder snorted, “And before you say another word, I know that Dantooine is deserted. Clever lie that you constructed, but it didn’t do you any good. They still surrendered. Alderaan exploding was a great incentive for them to surrender.”

Castiel was sickened to hear it, but he couldn’t fault them for it after his betrayal, “Why do you torment me like this? I will never join you or your flawed cause.”

“ **My** flawed cause?” Zayder put a hand to his chest, “What about your own, little prince? Did you really think this was some holy crusade; that you and your pathetic group of Hunters would come out the victor?”

“At least we never killed innocent people. Children. At least we stood by Faith and didn’t let the Dark Side destroy us.”

Castiel jerked away as Zayder gently took a hold of his jaw, moving to face the black helmet, “What about the innocents caught in the cross-fire, Castiel? What about those children that lost their fathers, those men that lost their sons to something that they couldn’t stop?”

The shining black eyes of the helmet seemed like they could see into his very soul, “We never asked more than they could give, Zayder. That is the difference between the Host and the Hunters, we never forced families apart, we never sacrificed innocent people for control.”

Zayder’s breath rasped, his hand dropping, “You have much to learn, boy. You would be disgusted by all of the things that are done in the name of justice and peace, and how much they corrupted you.”

Castiel drew back in anger, “’Corrupted’ me? I have not been corrupted, I see the Light. It is unfortunate that you cannot.”

The other man’s head cocked to the side, “You have lied, you have stolen, you betrayed everyone that trusted you, and killed. How are you not corrupted?”

Castiel hung his head in shame, it was all true, every single word. He fanatically stood by their code of honor, all the while turning his back on everything when tested. He was no soldier, no protector of the weak, he was no guardian for peace. He was nothing, for how could he deny the truth of Zayder’s words. He hung there limply as Zayder drew closer once more.

“Because of you, we found the other bases located all over the galaxy,” Zayder said softly, brushing the young prince’s hair back. “We are going to destroy every single one of them, Castiel. They will all burn unless you join us. You have an hour to decide.”

He didn’t hear as the other man stood, and walked quietly out of the cell, the soft sound of the cell closing behind him the only sound as the prince was enclosed in darkness once more.

“Bring him back to the detention area so he can decide his fate.” He heard Zayder command through the door.

* * *

They descended from hyperspace, slowing down and then shaking violently, asteroids flying at them. Dean gaped, maneuvering the ship around the flying rocks, “What the hell? We get out of hyperspace and into the middle of a meteor shower. This isn’t on any of the charts!”

“Calm down, dude,” Sam advised calmly, pushing a few buttons over his head. “We’ll figure this out.”

Jimmy walked into the cockpit, gripping on the back of Sam’s chair to steady himself, “What’s going on?”

“We’re in the right place, but no Alderaan,” Dean said tightly.

“What do you mean?” Jimmy asked. “It’s not like a planet can just fly away.”

Dean glared at him, “I know that, Chuckles. But it ain’t there.”

“But how?”

“Destroyed,” Bobby said quietly behind them, “by the Host.”

Dean shook his head, “Not possible. It would take a thousand ships, more fire-powerful combined and-”

An alarm blared, and Dean looked at it in concern, “Ship’s gaining on us.”

“Maybe they’ll know what happened.” Jimmy suggested.

Sam cursed, “It’s an Imperial fighter. Dammit.”

An explosion rocked the ship, the ship racing past the cockpit, Dean pursed his lips, “There’s no base around here, where the hell did it come from.”

Dean made a split decision, and set after the tiny Imperial fighter, swinging around the asteroids perfectly. Ahead of them, a star grew brighter as they came toward it. Bobby’s hands gripped Dean’s chair in concern, all would be lost if this was some cleverly made trap, “Fighters that size couldn’t get out into deep space on its own.”

Jimmy shook his head, “It could have gotten lost, maybe have been part of a search party or something.”

Dean frowned, “It’s not going to around long enough to tell anybody about us. That’s an Imperial TIE-fighter, Jimmy. They aren’t out here to find anybody; they’re here to pick off any survivors.”

Jimmy gulped, “I have a very bad feeling about this.”

The Millennium Impala grew closer, the Imperial fighter losing ground to the much larger ship. As they drew closer, the star resembled a large moon, gray and foreboding. Jimmy’s gut roiled in fear, there was something not right about the moon, and he suspected that the others could feel it too.

Jimmy squinted, “Look at him go, he’s heading for that moon.”

Dean pushed the targeting button, “I think I’ll be able to get him, he’s almost in range.”

After a few moments, Bobby paled, “That’s no moon.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The Millennium Impala was still travelling steadily towards the huge battle station in front of them, the TIE fighter in their grasp. Dean couldn’t fight the helplessness he was feeling. There was nothing that he could do, if there was one TIE fighter, there was bound to be more guarding the base. It seemed to Dean that he was stuck between a rock and a hard place; he couldn’t turn back, but he sure as hell couldn’t go forward for fear of the Host. He had a responsibility to keep his companions safe, even though trouble seemed to follow the Winchesters wherever they went.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Dean said tightly. “Sam, lock in the auxiliary power for a full reverse.”

Sam nodded and silently pulled a lever beside him, pushing a red button next to the steering column. The Millennium Impala shuddered, then the TIE fighter sped away towards what they had just figured out was a battle station.

“Guys, why are we still moving?” Jimmy worriedly asked.

“’Cause we’re caught in a tractor beam. Damn it, they’re pulling us in!” Dean exclaimed, smacking the dashboard in front of him in frustration.

“There’s got to be something you can do, though!” Jimmy said in a panic. “You know, just,” he waggled his fingers, “push a button or something!”

Dean squinted at him, “I’m suddenly very glad you don’t have your own ship. Even if that was possible to ‘push a button’, the gravity that thing is spewing out would tear her apart.” He settled back in his seat, “There’s nothing we can do about it, I might as well shut everything down. I can’t believe we’re going in without a fight.”

Bobby squeezed Dean’s shoulder, “There are other ways to get through this, and I have a plan.”

As they were towed closer to the massive metal ‘moon’, the sheer size of the battle station astounded them. The Millennium Impala was helplessly pulled into the large docking ports that stretched across the equator of the giant sphere. A small group of troopers approached the ship, blasters at the ready, to search the contents inside.

* * *

Governor Uriel pressed the buzzing intercom, “Yes?”

“We have just captured a ship that was entering the remains of the Alderaan system,” the voice explained. “The markings matched those of a ship that left the Mos Eisley station just before planet-lockdown.”

Uriel turned around the face Zayder, who crossed his arms in a triumphant stance. The black helmet nodded and his voice rasped, “Either it is some misguided attempt to find any survivors, or they have the plans.” He swiftly turned and made his way to the hangar, cutting a swath through the officers and troops in his haste. As he entered the hangar, his senses were assailed by the presence of Faith, making his blood buzz in his veins.

All focus turned to the officer that emerged from the ship, one hand holding the hatch edge above him, “There’s no on board, Lord Zayder. The log states that the crew abandoned ship just after takeoff, and several escape pods were jettisoned. Looks like engine trouble.”

“Did you find any droids?” Zayder questioned. As the officer’s head shook, the black-robed man clenched his hands in anger. He was sure that he felt something, a great power that seemed to seep from the ship, and a presence he thought died long ago. Sweeping his hands at the Millennium Impala emphatically, he commanded, “Get a scanning crew on board. I want every room of this ship checked!”

* * *

Silence reigned in the Millennium Impala as the last sounds of the officer’s ringing footsteps faded away; the initial first sweep of the ship was complete. Two floor panels in the main hallway opened, revealing Bobby, Sam, and Jimmy. Sam put a finger to his lips, his ears straining to pick up any sound that could be more officers coming. He looked up in trepidation, ducking out of the way as a ceiling compartment opened and Dean swung down, flipping to land on his feet on the metal grating.

“So lucky you had these hidey-holes,” Jimmy said, climbing out of the compartment. Sam rolled out and lent Bobby a hand out of his, all three of the men dusting themselves off.

“Use them for smuggling,” Dean explained as he closed the compartments. “Never thought I would have to smuggle myself in them.” He threw his hands in the air, “This is crazy! Even if I could take off safely right now, we’ll never get past that tractor beam.”

“Just stick to the plan and everything will turn out,” Bobby growled.

* * *

The small scanning group walked up to the ramp leading into the ship, carrying a heavy black box. They approached the two Storm troopers that guarded each side of the ramp, one of the search members telling the guard nearest to him, “If our scanners pick up anything, we will report it immediately. Just stay close by if anything happens.” The guard nodded and the small crew disappeared into the ship.

After only a couple minutes had passed, a great crashing sound could be heard from inside, startling the guards. A gruff voice called down from the opening, “Hey uh…Could you give a hand with this?”

The two guards looked up, and then shrugged at each other, walking up the ramp to see what was going on. Soon, a quick burst of gunfire echoed through the hangar, startling the officers in the command office above the hangar. The commanding officer leaned his hand on the counter in front of him, staring out the viewing window at the Millennium Impala, barking into the microphone before him, “TX four-one-two, what was that just now? TX four-one-two, do you copy?”

A stocky Storm trooper ambled down the ramp and waved to the officer, pointing to his helmet and shook his head. The officer’s lips pursed, turning to his aide, “Take over from here. It looks like they have a faulty transmitter.”

The door opened, revealing Sam filling the space holding a blaster and aiming at the officer in front of him. The aide drew a gun out from under the counter in front of him as the officer stumbled back, reaching for his own blaster. Sam quickly shot the man at the counter, while Dean, dressed in Storm trooper uniform, strode through the door way and shot the man standing in front of his brother.

After a heavy silence filled the room, Bobby, the droids, and Jimmy dressed in the same uniform entered. Jimmy ripped off his helmet, his hair sticking every which way and wearing a very angry expression, “Did you really have to shoot them? Why couldn’t we just knock them unconscious?”

Dean took off his helmet as well, cocking an eyebrow, “Because we are put in a very dangerous position, Jimmy. We shouldn’t be here, they know that, and they were going to take out the threat, meaning us.”

Jimmy crossed his arms and clenched his jaw, “I can’t believe you are fine with killing people.”

Sam’s jaw clenched, and he wordlessly handed over his blaster to Jimmy, who could clearly see now that the blasters were set to ‘stun’. Jimmy looked up at Sam, who smirked tightly and gave him back the weapon, all the while shaking his head, “Still though, all of that blaster fire just now? I’m surprised the whole station doesn’t come after us.”

“Bring it!” Dean growled, stretching his arms out. “I’d prefer that to all this sneaking around, at least we’d know what we would be dealing with.”

Bobby made his way over to the computer as the two brothers gathered the guards, tying them up and setting them in a closeted off alcove beside the door. After Bobby pressed a few commands into the computer, the bright blue image and detailed map of the station appeared on the screen. Chuck3PO and BeckyD2 busied themselves with the control panel on the other wall, the little droid beeped excitedly at what she found after a few moments. Chuck3PO jumped when he turned around to see the four men staring at him in question, “Oh…Well, she says that she can download the whole readout of the Imperial space station. No sweat.”

“Well,” Bobby spluttered, “plug her in, then.”

BeckyD2 slid her clawed arm into the computer’s console, lights twinkling in the room as the network was downloaded into her compact frame. After a few moments, she beeped at Chuck3PO, who turned to the men, “She says that she’s found the main computer that powers the tractor beam, and she’s going to pull it up on the screen.”

The men grouped around the computer screen, Chuck3PO pointing to the key points as he said, “There’s a main reactor here, that the tractor beam is connected to, divided into seven locations.” He straightened, “If any one of those terminals lose power, the tractor beam is useless.”

Bobby leaned back in his seat, “I’m going in alone.”

“Oh, hell no!” Dean retorted, “What have you always told me and Sammy? Never go without backup.”

“I know what I said, boy.” He growled, “But this ain’t your fight. It’s mine, and I’m going to finish this, once and for all.”

He stood and started to walk out of the room, but stopped as a hand curled around his forearm. He turned, Dean’s pleading green eyes filling his vision, so like the little boy he once was, “Let me go with you.”

Sam put a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, twisting the smaller man around to look over the design of the battle station to give the two older men some privacy. The young Winchester felt an odd feeling tightening in his gut; Bobby had taken the responsibility to care for them after John died, and Dean had grown close to the older man. If they lost Bobby, Sam feared that they would lose an integral part of Dean.

“I can’t let you do that, son,” Bobby said, moisture misting in his eyes. “I need you to stay here and watch over these kids.” He softened the command, but the inherent soldier in Dean took it for what it was, drawing himself up straight and nodding. Bobby held the younger man’s upper arms and whispered, “The plans **have** to get to the Rebel Hunters or other star systems are going become just like Alderaan. I need you to see this through, Dean. Your destiny is on a different path than mine. May Faith be with you.”

With that, the older man turned and raced down the hallway toward the reactor that controlled the tractor beam. Dean watched him go, a heaviness falling on his shoulders, more pressure than his own blood-father put on him. He wanted with all he had to resent the older man for doing this to Dean, for he knew that Dean would obey any request that Bobby would ask of him.

“May Faith be with you, Bobby,” Dean answered in a hushed voice.

The silence was broken as BeckyD2 started continually beeping. They looked over at her, rocking back and forth in glee. Jimmy frowned, questioning Chuck3PO, “What’s with her?”

“I don’t really know?” Chuck3PO shrugged, “She just keeps saying ‘Oh great maker, I found him!’ and ‘He’s here! He’s really here!’”

“Well, who is she talking about?” Jimmy asked in annoyance.

“Does it really fucking matter?” Dean asked, plopping down in the seat Bobby had just vacated.

“She says it’s Prince Castiel.”

Jimmy’s eyes widened, “Prince Castiel…He’s **here**?” He knew his brother was attacked just before sending the droids, but to find out that he was imprisoned on this battle station was more than frightening. How were they going to find him? How were they going to get him out safely while simultaneously escaping the battle station themselves? He paced the room in an attempt to focus, his mind whirling with questions.

“A prince?” Dean asked, straightening in his seat, “What the hell is going on?”

Chuck3PO turned back to the little droid, nodding as she kept frantically beeping, “He’s on Level five, in Detention Block ‘A’ one-twenty-three. He’s…he’s scheduled to be terminated.”

Shock chilled the Jimmy to the bone, to be so close and be too late to save his brother would destroy him, “Terminated? No, we have to do something!”

Dean folded his arms, “Here’s a thought, why don’t you ‘do something’ and tell me what’s going on?”

“BeckyD2 belongs to Prince Castiel,” Jimmy gestured at the little droid. “He sent a message to Bobby,” he exhaled, running his hands through his hair. He looked at Dean imploringly, “And…he’s my brother.”

Dean squinted. Sam had told him while Jimmy and Bobby were training that Jimmy was in fact the boy in all the stories Bobby has told them while they were growing up. They didn’t know however, that the boy’s brother was captured and a prince. He knew from the stories that Bobby told them that they were separated at birth, one going to Tattooine, the other to Alderaan, but he needed to hear how much Jimmy knew before he went any further, “If he’s your brother, then why isn’t he with you right now? What, did you leave him behind to get captured or something?”

“No,” Jimmy said impatiently, “I didn’t know he was my brother until I found a message from him for Bobby. He looks just like me…He’s my twin and I’m not going to just **leave** him here to get killed.” He bit his lip, “I need your help.”

Dean hated the mercenary thoughts that were running through his head at that moment, a captured prince meant reward money, no matter how anyone spun it. Money he could use to pay off Alastair, and finally be free of that sickening hell hole. He didn’t want to use the young man, or his brother, but he would do anything in order to protect his brother and himself. He knew he was going to regret saying this but it had to be done, “You got a plan?”

Jimmy smiled, going into the alcove and searched one of the guards, only to come out holding up a pair of electronic binding cuffs. They produced a charge that when fastened, sending a weak bolt of electricity through the prisoner’s body, rendering them weak and easy to handle. They were barbaric in Dean’s opinion, but effective, “Nice, but what are you going to do with those?”

“Well…” Jimmy trailed off, looking calculatingly at Sam. Dean knew exactly what was going through Jimmy’s mind, it seemed like a perfect plan, but he didn’t like the idea of using his brother at all.

“Don’t you even fucking think about it,” Sam growled, shuffling away from the shorter man.

To save time, Dean snorted and decided to help Jimmy to convince Sam, “Its realistic, dude. You’re head won’t fit in the trooper helmet, and I’m not going to let you stay behind.”

Jimmy and Sam stared at each other, seemingly at an impasse. Dean leaned back in his chair, it was like watching two cats circle each other, and although highly entertaining, they had to get to business. He stood, grabbing the cuffs from Jimmy and faced his brother, whispering, “I’m not going to fasten them, okay? This is just for show; I’m not going to let anything bad happen.”

Sam didn’t look convinced as he held out his arms, letting Dean put them around his wrists. He didn’t fasten them, didn’t want to have to deal with the disorientation that would soon follow when they took the cuffs off, he needed his brother to have a clear head.

Dean and Jimmy grabbed their helmets, the older brother guiding Sam with a hand on his elbow out of the room, only to stop as Chuck3PO called after them, “Wait, what are we going to do if anyone comes in here?”

Jimmy shrugged, “Uh…lock the door?”

“And hope they don’t have any weapons,” Dean grinned.

The door closed behind them as they set off down the hallway, Chuck3PO put his hands on his hips, “Well that’s not very comforting.” BeckyD2 beeped in agreement.

* * *

Dean and Jimmy stood in the hallway, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, with Sam slumped between them. They stood at attention as various people strode down the hallways, holding their guns in clenched hands. As the elevator dinged behind them, they crowded into the cubicle, shooing an officer out just as he tried to shuffle in after them. The three stood silently, the tension so thick that Jimmy was sure he could cut it with his lightsaber. The young man wasn’t sure exactly how they were going to pull this off, but he was willing to do anything to find his brother. He was thankful that Dean and Sam were willing to help him as he knew he couldn’t succeed alone, though he had a niggling feeling that their help was only being offered for the reward money that they were sure to get. It wasn’t a proud thought, because Dean seemed like a good person when he wasn’t shooting at people, but Jimmy had to go with his gut feeling on it.

Jimmy looked over at Dean, the helmet swerving strangely, obviously too large for him and whispering, “I can’t see a damn thing!” Judging by the heavy snort from the other man, the burly man thought it was funny, but it was slightly bothersome for the younger man.

When the elevator stopped at the detention level, they stepped through, noticing the guards and the laser gates. Dean gripped his gun tighter, stopping beside them, “This is totally not going to work.”

Jimmy made a panicked sound in the back of his throat, “Why didn’t you say anything before?!” His heart was thumping wildly in his chest, if a gun-toting psychopath thought it was a crazy plan, what made Jimmy think he could go along with it?

Dean growled, turning to face him, spitting out, “I **did** say so before!”

An officer walked up to him, clearly feeling very important with his little clipboard. He looked down at his notes, then back up at Sam and frowned, “Where are you taking this…Sasquatch?”

Sam’s immediate growl tapered off into a grunt as Dean elbowed him sharply in the stomach. Jimmy stepped forward, spouting, “Prisoner transfer from block one-one-three-eight.” The man looked down at his clipboard, and Jimmy shrugged as Dean full-body turned to face Jimmy in surprise. The younger man honestly didn’t know where the idea or sudden confidence came from.

The officer frowned, stepping backward a few steps, “Well, I wasn’t notified, I’m going to have to call this in.” He moved to the console, and started pressing a few buttons.

Dean had to think, and quickly. His calculating eyes scanned the situation sharply: three guards, including Chuckles with the clipboard, laser gates that Sam could easily shut down along with the alarms, and cameras that he could destroy with a few well-aimed shots. He shared a look with Sam, one that his baby brother could easily see through the helmet; it was time for ‘Plan A’: when in doubt, act like a crazy person. Sam nodded, and Dean nudged Jimmy to ‘just go along with it’.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Dean nudged one side of Sam’s cuffs open further, nodding to Jimmy who took a quick breath. Sam rolled his eyes before throwing his arms in the air, letting out the most terrifying Wookie call Jimmy had ever heard. He then grabbed Dean’s laser rifle, and shoved him hard in the chest, sending Dean flying. _Take **that** for calling me a Wookie,_ Sam thought gleefully. He was going to get ribbed for it later, he knew, but it was the only thing he could think of to do at the moment. If he was going to get the reputation as the 'Wookie' he might as well use it.

 

“We’re all gonna die!” Dean screamed, really laying it on thick. Jimmy really didn’t know how they survived for so long, acting like that.

 _I might as well enjoy the last few moments of my life_ , he thought before belting out, “He’s going to tear us all limb from limb!!” And surprisingly, that felt really good.

“Get ‘im!” Dean yelled.

The guards stood in stunned silence momentarily, until Dean and Jimmy started shooting wildly, Dean taking out the cameras expertly. Jimmy wounded one of the guards and scorched the wall behind them, while Sam took out the laser gates. The brothers made quick work of the last guards, standing in the middle of the room as the smoke cleared. They heard a panicked voice over the speakers, and Dean rushed to the computer, yanking off his helmet. He quickly scanned the readout, “The prince is in cell twenty-one-eighty-three. Go, go, go!”

Jimmy jogged down the hallway as Dean grabbed the microphone, clearing his throat before saying in an official tone, “Everything is all under control. Situation…uh…normal. Over.”

“What’s going on up there?”

Dean’s eyes widened, nervous sweat broke out over his forehead, “Uh…Weapons malfunction! But, eh, everything’s fine now. We’re fine, we’re all fine, here, now, thanks uh… how are you? Over.”

“We’re sending a squad.”

“Uh no, negative. Over. We,” he made a static sound of ‘krssh’ into the microphone, “reactor leak! krssh Few minutes to lock it down… krssh Large leak… krssh Dangerous.”

“Who is this? What’s your operating number?”

Dean stepped back and shot the console, sparks flying everywhere as it exploded, “Waste of my time…Jimmy! Company’s coming!”

Jimmy skidded to a halt as he came upon the cell; a chill crept down his back once he raised his rifle and blew the lock. When the smoke cleared, he saw his reflection staring back at him in tattered graying robes, slumping on the bench in a boneless sprawl, his face covered in bruises of varying stages of healing. He stood there gaping at him as the man lifted his head blearily, “You’re shorter than the others.” He sounded nothing like Jimmy, though the young man didn’t think they would be completely the same. He had a soft kind of growl, pleasant to hear, almost soothing.

“What? Oh!” Jimmy shook himself, taking off his helmet, “I’m Jimmy Novak. I’m…your twin, I’m here to save you.”

Castiel gasped, nearly trembling in shock, “How can this be? No one ever told me-”

“They didn’t tell me either.” Jimmy stepped closer, “I only just found out myself.” He set down his helmet and the rifle, “Believe me, I didn’t want to just spring this on you. I would have preferred to meet you any other way.” Jimmy trailed off as the man before him hunched over, shaking, “Are you okay? What did they do to you?”

When Jimmy stepped closer, the other man seemed to curl into himself, “Nothing. I-it’s nothing. You should go, get out of here while you still have a chance.”

Jimmy frowned, “But we just got here. The others-”

“Are going to die, right along with you, if you don’t get out of here,” Castiel said thickly, looking up. Jimmy gasped as his eyes…His eyes for a minute seemed strange. More than just blood shot, the color was very off, a murky sort of yellow and red. _They must have drugged him_ he thought, though the dread curling through his stomach told him otherwise. Castiel stared at him, breathing harshly through his nose, “Go.”

Jimmy shook his head, kneeling in front of his twin, “I’m not going to do that. You’re my brother. Of course I’m not leaving you here.”

“It would be better for everyone.”

Finally, the young man had enough, taking his twin’s shoulders and shaking him, “Stop it. I’m not **leaving** you here. You don’t know what I’ve been through to find you.” Tears stung his eyes, and he harshly wiped his eye, “You’re all I have left.”

“I can’t,” Castiel whispered. “I have nothing-am nothing-I…can’t be anything to you. I’ve **failed**."

“I don’t care about that. I don’t care about any of it. All I want is you safe, with me.” Jimmy stood, helping the other man up, “Come on, we have to get out of here. We’ll sort everything out when we are on the ship.”

“Ship?” Castiel blinked and shook his head, “But how-”

Jimmy sighed, “We’re really going to do this now, when we have people on the way to kill us?” He chewed on the inside of his cheek in anxiety before finally explaining, “Ok, short version. Found the droids, found Robert Singer-”

“Robert Singer is here?” Castiel interrupted, “In this battle station?”

Jimmy threw up his hands, “Yes! Can we go now?”

* * *

 

Lord Zayder paced the room while Governor Uriel sat at the conference table, watching him. It happened only a few minutes ago, after they were told that they captured a ship; that Zayder seemed to be buzzing with energy like a trapped animal. It would not have been prudent to unleash the powerful man onto the whole of the Morning Star, the battle station in which they resided; though at the moment, Uriel regretted not giving him something useful to do instead of pacing in a conference room.

Zayder stopped, the hand nearest to his lightsaber twitching, “I can feel him. I can feel Robert in this very station.”

Uriel frowned, “How can you be so sure that it’s Robert Singer specifically?”

“It’s a tremor in the Faith,” Zayder explained conversationally. Very rarely was he ever able to talk to anyone about Faith, apart from the Emperor, “I can feel him just as strongly now as I used to a long time ago. The last time I felt this, was when I was with my old master.” For a moment, a short moment, he felt the slightest emotion of regret. Looking back on the past made him melancholy, which was why he stopped thinking of it in the first place. There was no room for error in this new life he constructed for himself, out of the ruins of the past, that to fall back now would mean disaster for everyone and everything in the universe. He was the dam between the Emperor and the rest of the lives in the galaxy, and he couldn’t afford to show any weakness.

“Surely he should be dead by now.”

Zayder held up a hand, “Do not underestimate the power of Faith.”

Uriel stood, walking to the plasti-steel window, and crossing his arms, “You prize Faith too much, my friend. Faith has long since been extinct, the Jedi long burned out. You are all that is left of that ancient and barbaric religion.”

Zayder stared at the other man, fighting the urge to choke him. He was not the only one left; there was still Robert Singer, and his child who was powerful enough to be knighted if he was properly tutored. The man was a fool; there were people all over the world, people they worked with on the Morning Star that were Faith-sensitive.

A buzzing sound broke Zayder from his reverie, and Governor Uriel pressed the button on the intercom nearest to him, “Yes?”

“Governor Uriel,” the panicked voice said, “there is an emergency alert in Detention Block ‘A’ one-twenty-three.”

“Prince Castiel,” Uriel cursed, his left hand clenching into a fist. “All sections are on alert from here on out until he is apprehended!”

“This is Robert’s doing, I’m sure of it,” Lord Zayder growled, “Faith is with him, it’s the only way to explain his ability to stroll through this battle station undetected.”

“If that is true, then he will not be allowed to escape.”

Zayder stared out the plasti-steel window, watching Uriel’s reflection as he paced behind him. He knew that the old man had to have hid in the ship they captured, and the only way they would be able to escape the battle station was to power down one of the main reactor’s seven terminals. He was also sure that the old man would know that Zayder could sense him, could track his plans just as easily as Robert used to when Zayder was still under his tutelage. So what did the old man hope to gain from all of this?

“His plan isn’t to escape,” Zayder said in sudden revelation, rescuing the prince was a distraction, to take away the focus from Robert himself. If he were to attack Robert, that would leave Castiel able to leave the battle station, thus escaping his certain death. Zayder gave Castiel the decision the choice to either join the Galactic Host or die, and if he were able to live, that would give Zayder ample opportunity to turn the young man. Making a split decision, he concluded, “I have to face him alone.”

* * *

Dean stood at the computer terminal, gripping his blaster as Sam took up his position at the archway leading to the cells. Hearing the ominous buzzing coming from the elevator shaft in front of him, Dean looked over at his brother. The troops would be there very soon, the sound of the elevator travelling up the shaft only made Dean’s heart beat faster. At least five troopers could fit in the elevator cubicle, six if they crowded. They would be firing as soon as they exited, if they decided to leave the easy cover the metal would provide.

His brother would have to find cover and quickly, since he couldn’t fit into the armor, and they would have to take each and every one of them out. It looked easy shooting the guards back in the control room, but for Dean it was further from the truth. The mere act of pointing a gun at someone with the intent to fire, even if it was to stun them, always bothered him. Those were two men intent on killing them however, his brother especially, and whenever his brother was threatened it became very easy for Dean to pull the trigger.

It was very easy to kill Gordon.

Now however, was a different story, should he seek to maim, or stun those men long enough for all of them to escape? He had done a lot of things in his life that he regretted; that made it hard to even breathe at times, and he didn’t want to hear anything more on top of that.

“Sammy!” Dean barked, motioning his head behind the computer console for him to hide.

Sam sprinted across the room, ducking behind the terminal, “Are we taking them out or cutting them off?”

It seemed that his brother was thinking the same thing as Dean was, just as unwilling to kill them as his older brother. Dean stared at the elevator, “They’ll be able to saw right through that door, but if we trip the locking mechanism and screw up the terminal, it will buy us some time.” The light above the elevator door shone green, and Dean yelled, “Now, Sammy!”

They both fired at the control panel near the door, rendering the elevator useless for the time being. Dean whirled and fired point-blank at the computer terminal, sparks flying all around them and sizzling on his armor. With a powerful swing, Sam shoved the butt of the blaster rifle into the terminal keys, damaging it further. They shared a panicked look as they could hear the electric saw the troopers were using to get through the sheets of metal and into the detention block.

Their efforts were all for naught as several explosions knocked a large hole in the elevator doors. Sam and Dean fired into the smoke as they ran down the hallway towards the cell Jimmy disappeared into. Sam ducked behind into a small alcove and fired at the troops as they emerged from the elevator. Dean skidded to a halt as he caught sight of the vision standing beside Jimmy, unheeding the chaos behind him.

The smuggler let out a shuddering breath as they seemed to stare at one another, Jimmy looking at Dean in question. He couldn’t look away, and neither could Jimmy’s twin, even in the middle of a gunfight. His face was covered in bruises, dark circles ringing his cloudy blue eyes, and it was pretty obvious to Dean that the man had been tortured. The man’s skin was an alarming shade of gray, and the smuggler made a note to get him medical attention as soon as he was taken on board, he would probably need to eat and something to change into... That thought stopped him short, it wasn’t like him to be making plans for a perfect stranger, and he was sure that the prince’s handlers would take better care of him than Dean ever could.

A chord seemed to snap within the older Winchester, a deep connection that Dean had never felt before. He couldn’t chalk it up to chemistry or mere chance, this was something far more powerful than he could ever imagine, could ever hope to imagine due to his limited belief of something greater. Dean opened his mouth, hoping to introduce himself or say something at least halfway more intelligible than just, “Uh…we can’t go that way.”

The man beside Jimmy tilted his head, and Dean thought it was the most adorable thing, until he talked, “This is what you call a rescue? Our only hope of escape is cut off, there is nothing behind us but more cells, troops behind **you** ready to carry us all off to Zayder and his mercy. Thank Faith you were here to rescue me, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You wanna go back in your cell? ‘Cause I can arrange that,” Dean bit back. Little shit was giving him grief, and all Dean was doing was trying to help.

“Guys, take cover! Bitch about the shitty rescue later,” Sam snapped, firing off a few more bolts at the troopers.

Jimmy ducked behind Sam, popping out from behind his bulk to fire at the troops. Dean took his position behind another alcove across from his brother. Castiel yelped as Dean slapped a powerful arm across his chest, slamming him into the metal wall behind them, and the smuggler held back a wince at causing the smaller man anymore pain. Once again, both Winchesters took out the majority of the troops while Jimmy just managed to injure a few.

After a few minutes, it was clear that they were at an impasse, and Jimmy pulled out his comlink, he hoped that Chuck3PO would be able to hear him, “Chuck! Chuck, answer me!”

The sound was scratchy, but soon Jimmy could hear the droid’s mechanical voice, “Yeah, Jimmy?”

“We’ve been cut off, is there another way out of the cell bay?” There was slight static, and Jimmy shook the comlink, yelping as Sam bumped into him, “What are you saying?! I can’t-”

* * *

Chuck stomped as he paced the room, BeckyD2’s frantic beeping only serving to irritate him further, “I said, everyone’s been alerted to the prince’s escape. We couldn’t get any information on your level, all of it is restricted, and the main entrance seems like the only way in or out.” He looked up at the sound of a knock on the door, waving BeckD2 to silence.

“What’s going on in there?” asked the voice behind the door.

“Shit!”

* * *

Jimmy laid his blaster behind him, since he was a bad shot anyway and clung to the back of Sam's jacket in desperation. He looked across the narrow hallway at his twin, anxious to see if he was okay. To his surprise, he had a hand gripped to Dean’s armored shoulder, his eyes closed and mouthing something under his breath. The light falling upon Castiel at that moment, highlighting his grayed pallor, made his gut clench in dread.

Smoke soon filled the corridor, and Jimmy coughed, raising his voice to be heard over the blaster fire, “Chuck says there’s no way out!”

“We can’t hold them off forever, you know!” Dean yelled back, “There has to be some way out of here, we just have to find it!”

Castiel’s head popped up, looking at him in surprise and anger, “You mean to tell me, that you came all this way, and have no idea of an exit strategy?!”

“Don’t you go blaming me for all of this, sweetheart,” He growled and pointed at Jimmy, “ **He’s** the one that came up with the plan, not me.”

Jimmy chuckled nervously and shrugged, “Well, I didn’t exactly think it all the way through-”

“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy,” Castiel gritted. He leaped across the narrow corridor, picked up Jimmy’s discarded blaster. He whirled around to aim at the grate just across from him in one smooth motion that surprised and pleased Dean for reasons he didn’t want to examine at the moment. He fired, just barely missing the smuggler and blowing out the grate.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dean groused, even though he knew he should have moved out of the way instead of staring at Jimmy’s twin.

Castiel pursed his lips and glared at the man before him, “We needed an exit, get into the garbage chute.” He fired at the troops before tossing the blaster at Jimmy and jumped into the chute.

Dean gaped at Jimmy and Sam, covering for his brother as he went up to the hole. The young Winchester sniffed delicately and made a face, “Dude, it smells awful.”

“Get your ass in there, Sammy. I don’t care what you smell!” He kicked his much larger brother into the garbage chute, and continued to fire at the troops to distract them as Jimmy hurried towards the opening. After making sure he disappeared through the hole, Dean blasted off a couple carbon shots to fill the corridor with smoke before going in after his companions.

He cringed as he landed in something that squished awfully under his boots, the noxious odor making him want to gag. He looked up to see Jimmy sloshing through the mulch towards a large door, struggling to open it. He rolled his eyes, “Oh this is just **peachy** , place is a whole new level of disturbing, who puts a conveniently placed garbage chute grate in a detention area? I’ll just blast the door open and we’ll be out o f here. Out of the way, Jimmy.” He held up his blaster, not noticing as everyone’s eyes widened.

“No! Wait-” Jimmy exclaimed, and ducked as Dean fired.

Several things happened at once; Sam shielded his head and ducked behind a metal sheet, while Jimmy grabbed Dean, who yanked Castiel underneath him into the muck as the bolt ricocheted around the metal walls. The bolt shattered a large light above them, showering them in sparks, soon bathing them in red emergency lights that were set above the hatch.

Sam stepped out from behind the metal sheet, grimacing, “Dude.”

Jimmy stood, wiping at himself in irritation, “You could have stopped to listen to me before firing, you know. I’ve already tried it, the room is magnetically sealed.”

Castiel shoved Dean off of him, gasping in air and wiping the sewage water off of his face. He shot him a dark glare as he climbed up a small hill of trash and sniping, “Put the damn blasters away, you are going to get us killed!”

Dean threw up his hands, “Certainly, Your Worshipfulness.” He glared at the prince while stomping out of the sewage water onto Castiel’s pile, “I had this whole thing under control until you had to go all commando and blast a fucking hole in the wall! It’s not going to take them long to find out we’re down here. Great plan.”

Castiel folded his arms and huffed, “Well, it could be worse-”

He was interrupted by a low, inhuman moan coming from the sewage water. Dean sighed as he pointed his blaster at the water, all the while glaring at the prince who paled at the sound, “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What the hell was that sound?!” Sam yelled, leaping onto the trash pile, aiming right along with his brother.

Jimmy’s eyes widened, pointing blaster at the water a couple inches away from his feet, “There’s something in here!”

Dean held up his hand, trying to calm the young man, “Calm down, it’s just your imagination.”

“No, it’s not!” Jimmy exclaimed, his blaster hand shaking, “It moved past my freakin’ leg, I just saw it!”

Dean froze as something trailed under the water, objects moving in the current it left behind. He gulped, “Jimmy, you might want to-” but before anyone could do anything, Jimmy gasped and was instantly pulled underneath the water. Dean stumbled to the edge of the trash heap, throat clenched tightly in shock, shoving his arms into the water, “Jimmy!”

The young man surfaced for only a few short moments, a tentacle wrapped around his throat and upper body. “Jimmy!” Castiel screamed, grabbing a metal pole and thrusting it towards Jimmy’s flailing hand.

He grabbed it, struggling with the tentacle while trying to lever his body out of the water, “Shoot it!” Jimmy choked, “My gun’s jammed!”

“Fine,” Dean said, firing his gun downward so as not to hit the younger man. Castiel fell backwards when Jimmy’s grip on the metal pipe loosened as he was pulled underwater again. Dean cursed and shoved his gun in his utility belt, kneeling at the edge again, “ **Jimmy**!”

They froze as the walls shuddered, moving inward a couple inches. Everything fell silent; the only sound was their frightened panting. Dean looked up, his eyes colliding with Castiel, who was gripping the walls in a white knuckled grip.

“What was that just now?” Sam whispered, making his way to the edge, scanning the surface for any sign of Jimmy. The surface bubbled, and soon Jimmy broke through the surface, coughing and spitting out the murky garbage water. Sam gripped him under his arms, hauling him out of the water and beating on his back.

Dean grabbed Castiel around the waist, hauling him close as the prince almost plunged head first into the dangerous water, trying to get to the other side near his twin. Castiel gasped in surprise, gripping Dean’s powerful shoulders, heart beating wildly as their lips were inches away. Dean could feel himself getting lost in those intense blue eyes, whispering, “You alright?”

“Yes,” the prince whispered just as softly, letting go of his shoulders, “thank you.”

Dean belatedly let go of his waist, and shrugged, “Good, didn’t want you to fall in.”

Castiel nodded, kneeling next to Jimmy who was oblivious to the exchange, “Are you okay? What happened?” Sam cocked an eyebrow at Dean, mouthing ‘dude’ at him. Dean shrugged and waved his younger brother off, he was just helping the prince over the water, nothing more. At least that was what he was telling himself.

Jimmy shook his head and frowned, “I-I have no idea…it just sort of let go of me and disappeared.”

Dean scanned the walls and ceiling, a feeling of intense dread coiling through his belly, “I think I know what’s going on.” Before anyone can ask what exactly he meant by that, the walls give another, bone-chilling shudder before inching closer to the group.

Jimmy wobbled to his feet, clutching his twin’s arm and looking around in fear, “Why are the walls moving like that?!”

Castiel tugged his arm, “We have to brace the walls with something, anything!”

Dean nodded, and they soon found a few metal poles that they shoved against the still moving walls, all to no avail as they snapped like dried twigs. Dean threw his piece of metal with a curse; he didn’t want to die in a fucking trash bin. He felt worse at the thought that it was his job to take care of them, and all he seemed to end up doing was leading them all to their deaths.

“Oh, wait a minute!” Jimmy pulled out his comlink, hoping against all hope that it still worked after being dunked in the sewage water, “Chuck! **Chuck**! Where are you?!”

* * *

Chuck3PO covered the tiny speaker of the comlink, the droids were crowded in the small closeted alcove with the unconscious. They managed to find a place to hide, just as a group of four troopers made their way into the room; it was only a matter of time before they found them.

Chuck3PO swiftly hid the comlink behind his back as the door opened in front of him, stumbled out of the alcove, and clutched the officer in gratitude, “Oh thank the maker you’re here! They were mad men! **Mad men** I’m telling you! They went off for the prison level, if you hurry, you’ll catch them.”

The guard looked slightly askance at Chuck3PO, but turned to his fellow officers, “Let’s get a move on then, one of you stays behind.” They set out through the doorway and down the hall, leaving one of the officers behind as instructed, who leaned against the computer console and held his gun in a loose grip.

Chuck3PO and BeckyD2 inched their way towards the door, stopping suddenly as they heard the whine of the cocked blaster, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Chuck3PO chuckled nervously, “All of this action is screwing with my companion here, I’m going to take her down to maintenance to get her looked at.” The taller robot shrugged, “If it’s okay with you, that is.”

The guard stared at him for a few moments before lowering his gun and saying calmly, “Sure, whatever.”

Chuck3PO bobbed his head and motioned for BeckyD2 to follow him down the hallway. They made a sharp turn into another room that looked just like the one they vacated, complete with a wall service panel. Chuck3PO spoke into the comlink while BeckD2 went to the wall panel to find out where their companions had ended up, “Jimmy, are you alright?”

“Chuck! Chuck, turn off the trash compactors on the detention level!” Jimmy screamed. In the background, Chuck3PO could hear the others yelling, and the sound of crunching trash and screeching metal. BeckD2 beeped loudly, shoving her claw arm into the socket and proceeded to shut down the trash compactor.

“But Jimmy, where are-”

“Just do what I tell you and **shut down the compactors on the detention level**!”

Chuck3PO shook his head at BeckD2, who beeped at him in question, “Just shut all of them down. Hurry!” BeckyD2 beeped at him in irritation, and soon Chuck3PO heard yelling over the comlink, “Oh no! We were too late! They’re dead! **They’re all dead!** ”

* * *

The walls were getting steadily closer, and the small group had to climb for higher ground so as not to get crushed in the middle. Dean clutched the prince close to him, equal parts pleasure and the need to make sure he didn’t slip. Sam just grabbed onto Jimmy’s utility belt and didn’t let go, the much smaller man didn’t exactly have a choice where to go from there.

The space between the walls could have fit Dean and Sam standing beside each other comfortably, but the walls still kept moving, making that space smaller by each passing minute. Sam’s teeth were clenched tight as he tried pushing at the wall with all of his might. Dean didn’t want to tell him that it wouldn’t do any good, the walls were much too thick and there was certainly a computerized mechanism behind them that wouldn’t reverse no matter how much force he put against it. Jimmy was very quietly hyperventilating, constantly yelling into his comlink to Chuck3PO to help them.

Dean was getting a little alarmed; he didn’t want to die in a huge trash compactor, there were so many things that he wanted to do, and so many different ways that he would rather die. He had a list written down somewhere in the ship, and ‘being crushed in a trash compactor’ wasn’t on there. Dean squeezed the prince in his arms in anxiety, Castiel looking up at him in surprise. The smuggler’s head lowered for a split second, his eyes asking a question that, for a moment, he knew that Castiel was going to answer.

The smuggler should have known better than to trust his luck, for at the moment right before their lips touched, the walls ground to a halt, and reversed backward. The once dim lights brightened, and Dean let the prince go with a frustrated sigh. Castiel’s lips quirked ruefully, and he stepped away from him, catching up to Jimmy who readjusted his belt. Jimmy smiled at Sam, murmuring a ‘thank you’ for holding onto him and making sure he didn’t get crushed. Sam just grinned widely at him, patting a massive paw on Jimmy’s shoulder and nearly sent the young man flying.

As the twins spoke to each other near the hatch, Sam trudged up to his older brother, “Don’t think I didn’t see that.”

Dean fidgeted, “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Sammy.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Dean.” The taller brother leaned down and hissed, “Like how you’re trying to make it with a **prince**?”

“I’m not trying to make it with a prince!” He hissed back, glancing furtively at the twins, hoping that said prince didn’t hear their conversation. Looking back at his brother he glared, pointing an emphatic finger at him and snarling, “Forget what you saw. I won’t talk about it, you won’t talk about it. **We** don’t talk about it, you got that?”

Sam mouth thinned, jutting his chin out, “Fine. I just think that **maybe** you should start thinking with your upstairs brain for once.”

Dean was interrupted from responding to Sam by Jimmy, “No, Chuck. Chuck! We’re fine. You got it in time. Hey, we need you to the pressure maintenance hatch, unit number is-“

“Three-two-six-eight-two-seven,” Castiel said into the comlink.

* * *

He supposed he should feel regret, leaving the boys to find the prince, to finish the fight the Dark Side had started long ago, but Bobby’s mind was strangely quiet. He was somewhat at peace with his decision, wincing with just a moment’s regret at the pain he will cause in just a few moments. He hoped that one day; Dean would forgive him his betrayal.

He entered the humming chamber that housed the main reactor, he had to admit that he was stunned and impressed with how massive the battle station was, looking over the steel walkway at the hundred mile space that stretched below and above him. The clacking, jarring sounds of devices switching echoed through the empty space, lightning arched over the walls like some massive spider’s web.

He quieted his mind as he walked down the narrow walkway towards the computer terminal, cracking his knuckles and got to work, making several small adjustments to the terminals security commands. He had not done this sort of thing in a long time, shutting down something as important as a battle station’s tractor beam wasn’t simple, and he reveled in the work. He smiled in triumph as he heard the low moan of the terminal powering down, the lights that were once red, turning to a peaceful blue. The tractor beam was now rendered useless, and the Winchester’s were able to escape with their precious cargo.

As he hurried out of the main reactor chamber, he sent a fervent prayer in Faith that the boys escaped safely, that all would not be lost because of the Jedi’s arrogance in the past.

* * *

They stumbled out into an unused hallway as the hatch to the garbage room opened; the four of them each thanking the droids silently for looking out for them. Dean and Jimmy took the opportunity to shimmy out of the bulky Strom trooper armor as Sam served as lookout. With the amount of dust covering the floor, Castiel highly doubted that anyone would walk down that hallway and find them, but they couldn’t afford any more reckless moves after what happened in the garbage chute.

The prince shifted uncomfortably at the memory of that particular encounter, it wasn’t like him to feel that strongly for someone who was a perfect stranger. It also wasn’t like him to betray so many people and end up killing them… Castiel shuddered. He glanced at Jimmy, who shot him a concerned look, and once more the prince felt guilty. He had to clear his mind and set aside his pain, emotionally and physically, in order to see them all to safety. He straightened, and looked at Dean with all the strength he certainly wasn’t feeling, “I am Prince Castiel of Alderaan, and from now on, you will do as I tell you. Do you understand?”

The smuggler was momentarily stunned, the shock quickly morphed into irritation, “Well look here, your **Highness** , it wasn’t me that was in that cell earlier, you are in no position to be giving any commands. **I’m** the one who gives the orders in this little group.”

Sam rolled his eyes, turning away from the hall’s archway, and joined the little group to hopefully diffuse the tension. The prince, though understandably upset, was treading on thin ice. Knowing his brother, no amount of attraction he felt towards Castiel would stop him from burying his fist in his face if Castiel irritated or angered his brother anymore.

Castiel’s head tilted to the side, and said simply, “It’s a wonder how you have stayed alive.” The prince turned and hesitated as he noticed the tall man behind him. His lips thinned and brushed past Sam, muttering and sniffing delicately, “Out of my way, Wookie.”

Sam growled as Castiel strode haughtily away, “Why does **he** get to call me a Wookie?!”

Dean clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder, gave his brother a significant look, and whispered, “Cause you smell.”

As Dean and Jimmy walked off, Sam could only stare after them and huff.

After a few minutes of maneuvering around the twisting corridors, Castiel, Jimmy, Dean, and Sam made their way to the hallway that overlooked the docking bay. They stopped in front of a large plasti-steel window to see the Millennium Impala resting where they had left her, surrounded by twice as many guards. Dean leaned at the side of the window, resting his blaster hand on the edge and sighed, “There’s my baby.”

Jimmy leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the window, taking out his comlink and speaking wearily into it, “Chuck, where are you guys at?”

“We’re in the main hanger, across from the ship.”

Jimmy crossed his arms and clicked the microphone on, flashing a quick grin at Castiel’s expression of relief that the whole fiasco would be soon over with, “We’re right above you, just hold tight and we’ll be there soon.”

Dean straightened and motioned with his head to follow, “Come on, we’d better get going.”

They set off, maneuvering through the twisting corridors, and as they rounded a corner, they halted in surprise. Twenty guards were frozen across the space between them, Dean throwing a hand out to stop his companions from getting closer. The spell of silence was broken as a guard pointed at them, “They’re the ones we’re trying to find! Get them!”

Adrenaline pumped through Dean’s veins, thinking quickly, he palmed his blaster and charged down the corridor. As he caught Sam’s form following close behind him, holding up his own blaster, he cursed. He wanted to tell Sam to fall back, help the others to the ship, but he knew that the younger Winchester wouldn’t listen. Risking a glance behind him, he called over his shoulder, “Get to the ship!”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Get back here!” Jimmy called back, shooting a frightened look at Castiel. Dean made no move to indicate that he heard him as he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

Castiel let out a deep breath, “He’s courageous.”

His twin made a face, “Courageous or reckless, take your pick.” He shook his head and grabbed Castiel’s elbow, “Come on, we’d better get the hell out of here. Hopefully they catch up to us.” They set off for the ship, both feeling the niggling doubts that swirled throughout their minds, but not giving voice to them for fear of the outcome that would cause.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Dean idly thought, as he ran down the hallway after the troopers, that if it was anyone other than his brother watching his back at that very moment, he would be dead. Of course, it helped that he took the focus off of his brother, stomping his feet as he went and yelling at the top of his lungs. It not only distracted the troopers, thus enabling his brother to pick them off easily; but also served to disturb the military men, who had no knowledge of how to deal with a relatively psychotic target, causing them to make stupid mistakes like being corralled into a dead end by two under-equipped civilians. His plans quickly unraveled however, as they stopped at the wall of the dead end, turned and proceeded to aim all of their blasters at him.

He skidded to a halt, in the entrance to the small enclosure, blood freezing in his veins. There had to be only ten of them, their comrades quickly taken out by his younger brother behind him. They should have surrendered, because they were clearly dealing with professionals; Sam had at least taken out fifteen of their fellow companions, let alone how many Dean had taken out seemingly haphazardly. So to say he was a little at a loss now for what to do, would have been a major understatement. His victorious look faded into a sickly pale color, he turned, and ran the other way; narrowly avoiding the blaster bolts they fired after him, and catching up with his brother who fell back a few paces behind him.

If he knew that he outran his little brother in all the chaos, he would have at least tried to make an effort to be a little more cautious. He decided against stopping, throwing a look over his shoulder at his confused brother as he ran for all he was worth. Sam stood in the middle of the hallway, looking at him in exasperated confusion, before noticing the troopers as they rounded the corner after them. He fired a few bolts at them before turning around and hightailing it after his brother.

Sam prayed that Jimmy and Castiel were having a better time of it, getting back to the ship. He wasn’t sure what they would do if either of the young men fell into Zayder’s hands.

* * *

The twins simultaneously ducked into an alcove as a few soldiers who were speaking in low tones to each other as they walked down the adjacent hallway. Jimmy knew they had to stop and rest somewhere as he glanced at his brother, they had been traversing the hallways for a while now, and he wasn’t sure how much longer his brother could continue. He didn’t count on the Morning Star to be so confusing, nor did he count on his brother being tortured within an inch of his life just before rescuing him.

Castiel panted against the wall, his knees unable to hold him up as he slowly sank to the floor. He knew they had to run, and fast, to the ship to meet up with the rest of their group. He couldn’t explain the sudden weakness he felt in his limbs, and could have chalked it up to all of the work he was putting his damaged body through, but something was telling him that it was something far more sinister at work.

Casting one more furtive glance behind them, Jimmy grabbed his brother’s waist and hoisted Castiel’s arm over his shoulders. He lead them to the closest abandoned room he could find-how he was able to just walk in and happened to find it empty was beyond him-but he suspected that Faith was still working on their side. He gently lowered his twin into a chair, making sure to go back to the door and activate the locking switch. It would be glaringly obvious to anyone coming across the room that there was someone hiding in there, but he figured he had a few minutes to either hide them or get them out of there before they opened the door to investigate.

He hustled back to his brother, growing ever more concerned as Castiel just rested his head against the back of the seat, too weak to sit up straight. Slight tremors racked Castiel’s body, and his waxy, pale face was flushed. Jimmy wrapped his hand around the prince’s, gasping in surprise at how hot it felt, like he was burning up. It was a pain unlike he had ever felt before, and he had his fair share of burns from the machinery he worked on at the ranch. Castiel stiffened; his eyes snapped open, seeming to burn with a fire of their own. Castiel’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, looking at the other man in utter terror, “Jimmy… help me.”

Castiel didn’t care that he was begging; he was not prepared for something like this, and didn’t know how to stop it. He was boiling in his skin, and unable to find any kind of relief. He shifted slightly, almost screaming in pain as his sensitive skin only transmitted pain into his brain. He could feel the pressure in his mind grow exponentially, knowing something must have burst as he felt liquid slide down him upper lip. Suddenly, with a jolt of pain that had him arching from his seat, he saw.

He **saw**.

 _The hum of a lightsaber buzzed through the ominous silence. One red as blood, the other as blue as the skies that used to sweep the expanse of the Alderaani landscape. The glow reflected on both men’s faces, the harsh black breathing mask illuminated with an evil gleam, Bobby’s rimmed in light, serene as he gazed at his executioner._

 _Words exchanged, one arrogantly triumphant, the other regretful and yet, a warning to his attacker. Words unheeded as blows rained down against the elegant blades, one trying to prove a point, yet for the other… a means to an end._

 _The outcome was unlike anything that could have been foretold, the evil had triumphed, slicing through the other man as if he was nothing, just the Faith-spectre he was no doubt going to become. The brown cloak, the only physical reminder of the Jedi, pooled upon the floor in smoldering ruin._

He had time for a choked cry as a wave of nausea engulfed him, the pain lanced his body as his thoughts scattered into the far recesses of his mind. Images flashed before his eyes, sounds of elegant blades clashing against each other, the screams of several dying-sent cold chills down his spine. He could hear his heart beating in his chest like the sound of many booted feet, and suddenly he saw Coruscant as it was before he was born, beautiful and yet so very terrible.

 _The march of several booted feet reverberated through the serene halls of the Jedi Temple like thunder. One lone soldier stood out from the rest, clothed in the inky black darkness that had engulfed his soul. His eyes burned with unholy fire, the reds and yellows that had consumed the warm brown eyes glowed in the shadows of his hood. Behind him, the disciples of the new order of the Galactic Host proudly marched in their pure white armor._

 _The Temple was silent, more a tomb for the souls housed inside. Deadly quiet, the soldiers moved through the grand entrance, and soon the music of blaster fire and screams filled the night._

He knew what they had done, knew how it could be so easy to destroy the ones that trusted them the most, murdering the helpless in their beds without any feeling whatsoever. They cut down every guard, lit fire to the sacred gardens, confiscating the prized documents as if the Jedi were the ones who were wrong. A lone image of a child gave him a beseeching look, his helpless comrades behind him in a circular training room. The look of trust quickly folded into horror and terror as the lightsaber before him was activated. He saw all, and so much more. He saw every child in that room cut down, unable to defend themselves against one so powerful in the force. He stared blindly at the ceiling, swamped with the images of the Jedi, murdered by the one person they trusted.

Tears had slipped out of the corners of his eyes, he couldn’t control what was happening, couldn’t stop the images from assaulting his mind. The visions swarmed his sight, the desert plains of Tattooine, the healing grasses of Naboo, and then suddenly fire. Fire, as a great man’s body was consumed, as the Temple was destroyed, of the lavas of Mustafar glowing in the distance. Brimstone assaulted his nose, and the images slowed to show him one last sight.

 _The lava river boiled underneath the young Sith, and Robert stood before him, clearly having the higher ground. Their battle was long, and hard-fought, the older Jedi was weary and heavy-hearted. Every step they had took, from Tattooine to now, had been a path to the Dark Side, though neither had wanted to admit it._

 _The new Sith knew hatred before meeting the Jedi, he knew suffering, and he knew unimaginable despair; both were to blame however, both were wounded beyond all measure, but neither one wanted to let the other in. So for their mistrust, their pain, a galaxy had fallen into darkness. Thousands of people had died-were dying-and nothing that the other could do could fix it. By killing the other, they knew that they would end the sorrow in their own personal universe._

 _The young Sith ignored his ex-mentor’s warning and jumped to attack. With great regret, the older Jedi sliced through his legs, cutting them off at the knee. The body tumbled to the ground, rolling to the river and stopped. They spoke to each other one last time; words filled with anger, hurt, and regret, before the Jedi left, unwilling to witness the death of his former student._

Castiel gasped, pulling deep breaths into his lungs as the visions suddenly stopped. As his sight cleared, he saw Jimmy’s worried face above him, his eyes wide and panicked. He gingerly maneuvered himself into a sitting position, and groaned as pain stabbed at his eyes and temples-though admittedly, not as bad as before. He swallowed with difficulty, “H-how long have I been-”

“Only a few minutes,” Jimmy interrupted to reassure. “Longest minutes of my life, but there you go.” He sat back on his heels, “Are you okay? You don’t…Don’t look okay.”

Castiel took another breath, “I will be fine, once we get to the ship. We have to move fast, I think-I think something is going to happen.”

Jimmy frowned, “How do you know?”

“I just do.”

* * *

Chuck3PO and BeckyD2 stood in an alcove near the ship, the bronze robot looking frantically around the hangar, “Where could they be? They should have been here by now.”

The other robot beeped in reply, and Chuck3Po shook his head, “I hope they didn’t get into any further trouble, Becky.”

* * *

Bobby hurried along the hallway leading to the Millennium Impala, unwilling to let his companions see what was to happen. He was doing this for his own purposes, he well knew, and knew that the Winchester boys would never forgive him this. No matter what he would have said in his defense, they wouldn’t have believed him. He had started this mess, he let it happen, and now he was going to fix it.

He could sense the other Jedi’s Faith-signature as easily as he used to so long ago, it saddened him to realize that the bond they used to share was just as strong as it used to be, after everything that had happened.

 _”It’s over, Zachariah,” Bobby threw his hands to the sides, deactivating his lightsaber, “I have the higher ground. There’s nothing you can do.” He was so very tired; the fighting, the games, everything-he just wanted it to end. If there was some way he could bring his friend back from the abyss he let himself fall into, he would do all in his considerable power to bring him back, even though by now it would be pointless._

 _“You have always underestimated me, my power…” His gray flesh, the shadows under his eyes, told Bobby that his friend, his brother, was lost. The evidence was such that it nearly brought Robert to his knees, and up until now, he couldn’t bear to think of the one person he trusted the most could possibly do the atrocities he had done. The once kind brown eyes darted around the landscape surrounding his former master, and Robert could see the calculation in that cold gaze._

 _With a sinking realization, Robert knew exactly what his apprentice was about to attempt, “Don’t do it, kid.”_

 _Zachriah disregarded his warning-his impatience clouding his judgment-and flipped off the platform that hovered above the lava river. With a lightning quick motion, Robert sliced off his legs at the knee, and watched with regret weighing his heart as the body tumbled to the edge for the river._

 _“What did you do?! You stupid ass, you were one of us!” Robert yelled brokenly, the sight of that helpless body broke the dam he had set his emotions behind, “Going darkside was never something I would ever thought you capable of! We were going to bring balance to the Faith, and you just let it all slip away!”_

He looked up as he sensed his former student, and faced the masked man who appeared down the hallway. He was unused to seeing him this way, how much he had changed. This was his apprentice, the boy he raised to manhood: his friend, his brother, and now, his executioner. His heart dropped in sadness as the younger man activated his lightsaber, and where once the blade was a pure blue light, it was now scarlet-red as the blood on his hands.

Bobby straightened and activated his own blade, the beautiful blue light that once filled him with hope and Faith only served to illuminate the hallway in a cold, bright light. He stepped forward slowly, noticing as Zayder did the very same thing.

Bobby could almost see the arrogant smirk the younger man wore, could sense it in his voice, “I have been waiting for this for a long time, old man. The circle is now complete, wouldn’t you say?”

Bobby just stared at the black-mask’s eyes-shifting into an offensive posture with a grace that belied his age-it was a simple movement, nothing as elaborate a stance as he used to make. His lightsaber hummed and crackled in wait as the other man dropped into a fighting stance, the red blade swinging elegantly in impatience. Zayder, or rather Zachariah, could never stand still before a fight. The helmet’s head cocked, “When I left the Jedi, I was but a learner. Now **I** am the master.”

Bobby snorted, “In your dreams, **Zayder**.”

The warriors stilled-each sizing the other up-waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The air seemed to vibrate, and Bobby’s lips thinned as he felt the pressure on his shoulders, so Zayder decided to fight dirty. _Well, two can play at that little game,_ he thought. Bobby cracked his head from side to side, easily shoving the pressure away as if it were nothing.

The older man lunged, and brought his lightsaber up at the last moment to catch the lightning that arched from the bigger man’s hand. It was the same ploy that was used on his fellow Jedi commander, and Bobby was not about to fall for it. So the fight was on, each saber crashing against the other, each warrior gaining and losing ground equally. Bobby moved around the other man, quicker and faster than the lumbering gait of Zayder’s mechanical legs. If Zayder wasn’t nearly all-machine, Bobby would have had a harder-and perhaps, longer-time of it.

Bobby started inching his way backward into the hangar after quickly realizing their duel wouldn’t work well as a distraction to get the boys out of the Morning Star. They paused, Bobby noticed as a few soldiers nearby forgot their work and decided to watch an old man going up against their mighty master, which he was sure that by just the look of the absurd image, Zayder would grow angrier. It was all the more reason to play the scene as best as he could. He sent a prayer out into the Faith, hoping against everything that the boys were able to make it out alive.

Their lightsabers buzzed in the air as they circled each other. Zayder snarled, “Your abilities are weak, Robert.” It was almost as if the younger man was complaining slightly, but Bobby didn’t have the benefit of age at his disposal any longer, or a near mechanical body, as the other well-knew.

“You won’t win, Zayder,” Bobby said quietly, only for Zayder to hear, “You strike me down, I’ll become more powerful than you realize. Idgit.”

Idgit.

The one word that Zayder heard throughout his life as a Jedi, the one word that he detested above all others. Bobby knew that it would piss Zayder off to no end to hear it, even though that half the time he said it to him while they were partners, it was out of affection. It would incite the younger to fits of rage, and it served him well now to use it. The younger man snarled again, lunging for the old man and swinging the scarlet blade at his head, to be blocked by Bobby’s.

* * *

Dean and Sam leaned against the wall facing the massive hangar, and stared at the soldiers in bewilderment as they tried to catch their breath from running. They seemed to be watching something interesting, but for the life of him, the older Winchester couldn’t catch a glimpse. Dean panted, squinting over at his brother, “Didn’t we **just** leave this room? Like, not an hour ago?”

“Yeah,” Sam breathed, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans-covered thighs, “I know, right?”

Dean nodded at Jimmy as the young man and his twin approached the Winchesters, “What took you guys so long?”

Castiel frowned, “We got lost.”

Jimmy’s gaze flicked between Dean and his brother, and cleared his throat, “So… is the ship alright?”

Dean shrugged, “Should be, if we can get to it. I just hope Bobby was able to deactivate the tractor beam, or we are going to be hitting the wall as soon as we get out of here.”

Sam nodded, and then suddenly frowned, “Where is he anyway? I mean, we took long enough, right?”

Dean shook his head and shrugged-silently questioning the old man himself as a tightening in his gut let him know that something was very wrong.

The group inched closer to the ship, making sure that none of the soldiers could see them, it was easy since their attentions were focused on what they assumed was a fight. As they climbed the ramp to lead them into the ship, using the distraction behind them to ready the ship for take-off, Jimmy glanced over his shoulder and gasped in horror. He yanked on Dean’s sleeve to get his attention and pointed behind them, “Look!”

The group froze as the crowd parted minutely, revealing Bobby and Lord Zayder dueling. Their lightsabers crashed and whirled so fast, the blades became a blur to them. The Winchesters and Jimmy were equally surprised and bewildered, they never seen the old man fight, let alone with such grace and power.

Out of his peripheral vision, Jimmy could see the bronze sheen of Chuck3PO’s metal body approaching them from a nearby alcove, BeckyD2 following close behind. Chuck3PO cocked his head in question, and Jimmy shook his head and motioned them into the ship. With one last glance behind them, the droids followed their master’s bidding and shuffled quickly into the ship.

Dean moved forward to the end of the ramp, disregarding the restraining hand his brother put on his shoulder-there had to be a way to help his old friend. Bobby was more a father to him than their own; he deserved more than to be killed in front of an audience in the dirty hangar of massive battle station. His heart was in his throat as he watched the two dueling, he knew that there was no way all of them would make it out of there alive, and suddenly the bad feeling he felt ever since Bobby had left the control room an hour before came back anew.

“Oh no, no, no, no,” He chanted under his breath, taking another few steps closer to the large group. He felt Sam’s large hands settle once more on his shoulders, gently pulling him backward to the ship. Digging in his heels, his jaw clenching, he watched as Zayder swung his lightsaber downward and gasped as Bobby stopped it.

Bobby looked around him, eyes settling on Dean. _I wished I could tell you why,_ he thought to the young man. His face relaxed, smiling softly at Dean horror-stricken face, and turned back to his opponent. Dean’s heart seized in his chest, the scream that bubbled up in his lungs froze in his throat as Bobby lifted his sword from Zayder’s, freeing the man to strike his killing blow.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion, a sight that was sure to haunt Dean’s dreams for the rest of his life. Bobby seemed to fade before his very eyes as Zayder let his saber descend, cutting the man in half. He could feel the slice just as if it happened to himself, and unexpectedly the scream he tried to contain echoed throughout the hangar.

“ **NO!** ”

Sam grunted as he picked his brother up when Dean tried to run to Bobby, and he ran toward the ship. He ignored the blaster fire that flew around them, and yelled the others to get into the ship. Jimmy stood there stunned, staring at the brown cloak in seeming betrayal until Castiel squeezed his shoulders, his white face spurring Jimmy into action.

As the brothers approached the ship, Sam set Dean down. Noticing how wide and tragic his eyes were, he shook his older brother, “Now is not the time for this, Dean. He didn’t die for us to be slaughtered right after. We have to get out of here.”

Dean slumped, and looked away. He knew his younger brother was right, knew that their only hope lie in Dean getting them out of the Morning Star and safely with the Rebel Hunters. Castiel knew where their encampment was, and would be able to direct them. At the thought of Castiel, of everything he had given up and what that the prince had gone through, he straightened. Nodding to his brother, he lifted his gun and shot at the troops, he could break later, when they weren’t in certain peril.

Jimmy stood at the opening of the ship, frozen in place as the brothers held off the soldiers, he was sure they wouldn’t be able to make it out alive if he didn’t help. He ran down the ramp, unholstered his blaster, and shot erratically at the troops, almost nauseous as he felt satisfaction as some of the men fell.

Dean looked at him out of the corner of his eye and shouted, “Shoot the blast door, Jimmy! It will cut them off!”

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy quickly aimed his blaster and fired. He gasped as the panel exploded and the doors started to slid shut, effectively cutting Zayder and the troop off from the hangar. He growled as three soldiers managed to hurtle through the opening in the doors, feeling a thin trail of sweat traveling slowly down the side of his face as he tried to get a better aim. He didn’t want to kill them, but incapacitate them long enough to let them escape.

He didn’t know what possessed him to hiss sharply and walk down the ramp of the ship. His head cocked to the side as he lined his sight at the soldiers, and pulled continuingly on the trigger. His vision grayed as he took out his helplessness and rage on the lone soldiers. His body suddenly grew cold, his hands shook as he pulled the trigger three more times until the last soldier fell to the ground.

He could do nothing when his vision cleared, frozen to the spot as he realized what he just did. He couldn’t have killed those men; he didn’t have it in him to do something so horrible. What would Bobby have said if he saw what he did? Were those really the actions a Jedi would have taken? His breath came in pants as he stared at the carnage before him, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

 _Run, Jimmy! Get out of there!_

Jimmy reared back as he heard the voice echo in his mind; it sounded so much like Bobby’s gruff voice that it made his breath hitch in his chest. He must have been in shock, there was no way he could hear Bobby so soon after his death-it wasn’t possible. His gaze darted around the hangar for any reason to explain the voice.

He shook himself, they were right, they had to leave and quickly if they were going to survive the next few hours. He could figure out later why he heard Bobby so clearly, although he could always chalk it up to a nervous breakdown. He nodded, that had to be it. He holstered his blaster in his utility belt, and ran back to the Millennium Impala. He thundered up the ramp and ducked his head as he felt hands on each shoulder to guide him through. The portal closed behind them, and Dean hurried down the short hallway towards the cockpit.

Sam gripped both of his shoulders, hunching down to Jimmy’s eye-level, asking quietly, “Are you going to be okay?”

Jimmy frowned as he nodded silently, completely taken by surprise as Sam’s grip firmed and jerked him once.

“I mean it, Jimmy. We need you now more than ever, and I have to know that we can count on you when the time comes.”

“Yes,” Jimmy bit out, “I’m fine.”

Sam’s lips quirked in a quick grin, “Good, ‘cause this looks like it’s going to be a bumpy ride.” He let go of Jimmy and quickly jogged down the same path his older brother made to join him in the cockpit. Jimmy glanced at his twin, who gazed back at him sympathetically. He shook his head, his large blue eyes watering, “I-I’m sorry, I thought-”

“No,” Castiel murmured, closing the last few steps between them and gripping his upper arms as the ship lurched, “You couldn’t control what came over you, just as I couldn’t. Don’t let this sorrow consume you, Jimmy. You did nothing wrong, you were only trying to get us out alive.”

Jimmy sighed, looking away, “I wish I could believe you.”

* * *

Dean’s lips thinned as he concentrated on powering the ship, and glanced at his younger brother who settled into the seat beside him. He went through the motions of powering up the ship robotically, they had done this so many times before that they moved in sync, in perfect harmony. Their fingers flicked the switches and angled the levers so quickly it was like breathing.

Dean could hear the soft voices behind him, in the hallway, and knew the twins were talking about the events in the hangar. Really, what he wanted to do at that moment was to scream until his voice gave out, beat against the wall until his hands shattered, rub the image out of his eyes until he couldn’t see anything. He shook his head sharply, swallowing hard to ease the tightness in his chest. _Not now, don’t do this now, you can’t-_

“Don’t think about it, dude,” Sam said quietly, “not now. We can’t do this now. After we get the prince and his brother to where they need to be, that’s when we’ll take a break from all of this.”

Dean frowned, angling the ship quickly out of the hangar, “I wasn’t thinking about anything Sammy.”

Sam sighed, and from the corner of his eye he could see his younger brother clench his hands around the navigator in a white-knuckled grip, “Dude, I’ve learned every look on your face since I was a baby. I know when you’re feeling-”

“Sammy. Shut up.”

The silence in the cockpit was thick as they shot out of the Morning Star, neither brother willing to speak about what had just happened, especially since the Galactic Host was on their trail.

* * *

Jimmy was slumped at the table in the min living area of the ship as he went through the events that day in his mind. He kept rifling through every action, trying to find the one thing he could have done differently to stop Bobby from dying so horribly. His shoulders slumped, and his hands plunged through his thick, dark hair. It was hopeless, anything that he could have done would have resulted in his or someone else’s death.

And speaking of-

Three men died today, because of Jimmy. He was sure that there were more, he couldn’t be so naïve that it was only so few that died, but it was because of him that made him feel-

He really wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On one hand, these men served the very people that killed his aunt and uncle, just for buying two droids. They didn’t know that the droids held secret plans of their battle station. On the other, they were only following orders, and Jimmy couldn’t be sure they were the very same men that killed two innocent people.

It sickened him to think he had blood on his hands that no amount of prayer, or atonement would ever wash off.

Castiel watched from the other side of the room, leaning against the wall, more support for his aching body than comfort. He ached to see the disgusted, ashamed look on Jimmy’s face, and wished will all he had-what he had left to give-that Jimmy did not have to go through this pain.

And wasn’t that the curious thing?

A few hours ago, he knew that he was an only son, and now-well now, he was a twin. They shared blood, genetics-and if he wanted to be idealistic-a soul. He couldn’t help feeling the way he did, if he had a choice, he would choose this closeness every time. For too long he had felt as if something was missing, a lost piece, that no matter who he was surrounded with-or what-it never took away that empty feeling.

Now, to see that his brother lost in his own hell-a hell of his own making, granted-Castiel wasn’t about to just stand back and watch. He propelled himself off of his lean, looking around for a blanket, or something that would be able to stop Jimmy’s shaking. His eyes fell on an old, worn blanket tossed haphazardly on a chair nearby, and made a small triumphant noise in his throat. Grabbing the blanket and walking over to his brother, he slid in the seat beside him, wrapping the warm fabric around Jimmy’s shoulders.

He kept his arms around his twin, “How are you?”

Jimmy shook his head, and breathed, “I can’t believe Bobby’s is gone. One minute he was there, fighting Zayder so skillfully, and the next… gone.”

“There was nothing you could have done, Jimmy. I suspect he knew what was going to happen all along, and made peace with it, you should as well.”

Jimmy leaned back, and shot a look at Castiel, “Don’t let Dean hear you say that. You should have seen him, Cas. It was horrible.”

Before Castiel could respond, Dean barreled into the main area, startling both brothers. He looked rather alarmed, his green eyes wide, “Hey Jim, ol’ buddy. We got some bogeys on our tail, need your help.”

The twins shared a look, and Jimmy shrugged, “What do I have to do?”

Dean grunted, “We don’t actually have time for this-”

Castiel stood, and gave Dean a haughty look, “Explain, and we might help you.”

“Might?” Dean shifted backwards, a little surprised. As the prince nodded, he rolled his eyes, “Well **princess** , the Galactic Host are after us, with a major hate-on. We have to kill them before they kill us. Is that enough of an explanation for you?”

Castiel pursed his lips at the insult, and turned to look at his twin. Jimmy was pale and his hands were shaking, there was no way he would be able to hold it together to get them through the barrage the Host were no doubt about to put them through. Making a quick decision, the prince turned back to Dean, “I’ll help you.”

“You?” Dean snorted, “Excuse me for asking, but are you a good enough shot? We can’t afford for you princely sensibilities to get into the way.”

“Point me in the direction of your gun-port, and I’ll show you just what my ‘princely sensibilities’ can do.”

Dean motioned behind him, “After you.”

* * *

The twins separated, Jimmy going to the cockpit to help Sam maneuver the ship, while Castiel settled into the opposite gun-port from Dean. He fitted the headset that would allow them to be able to communicate with each other over his ears, and adjusted the microphone attached to it as close to his mouth as he could get it.

He relaxed into the leather bucket seat of the laser turret, and curled his long-fingered hands around the controls. The slightest shift of his body, a flick of his wrist, would rotate the turret to its desired location. He took only a moment to test it, before quickly righting the gun-port back to its original position.

He blinked as he heard Dean’s scratchy baritone in his ear, “You in, Cas?”

Quirking a smile, Castiel answered, “Yes. How close are they?”

“To the left and closing in fast.”

He could hear a soft scratching noise, then Sam’s voice barked into his ear, “Left, 2 o’clock!”

Castiel flicked his wrists, noting in satisfaction how responsive the controls were. The Millennium Impala may look old and beaten up, but the ballistic upgrades more than made up for the look. He saw them closing in, squinting slightly as he squeezed the trigger. He wasn’t prepared for the cannon’s kick-back, but as he saw one of the enemy ships exploding, he couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face.

He was glad that he was tutored in piloting a ship, and nearly ecstatic as he was taught how to fire all the various weaponry certain ships were equipped with.

“Dude,” Dean intoned good-naturedly, “I can’t believe you got the first one.”

“Skill,” Castiel chuckled.

“I call ‘bull-shit’,” Sam laughed.

The Galactic Host proceeded to fire upon the Millennium Impala, and the prince silently cheered that the ship was blessed reinforced. The damage the ship took was minimal, and neither one of the Winchester brothers were concerned. He could hear Dean grumbling about his ‘baby’, and Sam assuring him that they would be able to get her outsides repaired, before all sound ceased. The time for concentration was nigh.

He saw another ship exploding, to his right, and knew that Dean managed to shoot down another ship. From what he could gather, there were at least three more lurking around the ship, trying their damndest to damage the ship enough to either incapacitate them or kill them. The two men decided quickly that their best course of action would be to aim at the same target, thus culling the herd quickly and without further damage to the ship.

In the next few minutes, Dean and Castiel moved in harmony, firing at the enemy targets as they grew close. The prince couldn’t explain how they managed to do so, neither one or the other knew what the other could see or was doing, but there were only a few times in which Dean would have to instruct Castiel where to fire.

The ship jerked suddenly, sending Castiel careening around, momentarily losing his equilibrium. Jimmy cursed, “The lateral controls are out.”

“Don’t worry, my baby will hold together,” Dean stated firmly, and Castiel could almost see his nod of confirmation.

Just as he said this, the last three TIE fighters started to attack in earnest. They quieted, and tracked each ship as they flew by, taking them out one by one. Finally there was only one left, making a last ditch effort to take out the Millennium Impala, it swooped closer and fired at the ship. Dean and Castiel swerved to aim, waiting until it got closer to them before firing. As it got close enough for them to see the Galactic insignia, they pulled their respective triggers. With a shower of burning fragments, it exploded, and the Millennium Impala shuddered from the after math before settling.

Castiel ripped the headset off of his head as the speakers nearly blew with the sound of their joyful cheering, and left the gun-port to meet up with his brother whom he was sure was waiting for him in the hallway. Sure enough, as soon as he climbed down from the turrets, he was crushed in Jimmy’s arms. He gasped in pain and stiffened sharply, he nearly forgot how much he put his body through that day.

“Oh god!” Jimmy let him go quickly, leaning him up against the wall, cringing as he took in his brother’s suddenly white face, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

Castiel held up a hand, “I’m f-fine. I just…It would be better if I had a chance to clean the wounds, the garbage chute wasn’t the best place to be after-that.”

Dean jumped down from his ladder and faced the twins, “Castiel’s right, any nick could get infected from being in that place for too long.” He nodded his head down the hallway, “The refresher unit is the only door off of the main hold, you can’t miss it. There are fresh towels in the cupboard, and I’ll look for some better clothes for you. Nothing too fashionable, but they’ll keep you until we get you where you need to be.”

Castiel blinked, unused to the abrasive man being so kind, “I-thank you, Dean.”

The other man winked, giving him a grin that told the prince exactly why the other man got on his nerves, “Don’t mention it.”

Castiel scoffed in disgust and walked away stiffly, his haughty storm-off made less of an impact at the slight limp of his right leg. Nevertheless, the prince didn’t look back, and held his head high until he approached the door to the refresher unit and went inside.

Dean chuckled, “Your bro’s got some backbone, Jimmy.” He cocked his head slightly, and glanced at the other man, “Whaddya think?”

Jimmy cocked a dark eyebrow, “Depends on what you’re asking.”

The smuggler shrugged, folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, “You know-a prince and a guy like me…”

Jimmy made a face as the older Winchester trailed off with a wistful look on his face, staring after the prince, “He’s my **brother**.”

“And?”

“And that means he’s off limits.” Jimmy copied Dean’s stance, somehow less intimidating as he had to look up at Dean to meet him in the eyes.

* * *

As the door to the refresher until shut behind him, Castiel sighed and slumped against the cool metal. The hum of the ship was the only thing he could hear in the small room, and the tightness that he felt in his shoulders and neck drained away with hearing that sound. His eyes cracked open after a few blissful moments of silence to survey the compact room. There was a cabinet to his right, which he assumed held a few towels and other various hygiene products. In front of him was the sonic shower cubicle, the frosted glass door rolled back to reveal a clean tiled interior. At his left, stood the sink and the mirrored medicine cabinet, an overall simple but clean compartment.

He cringed to see the bruises darkening on his pale face in the small mirror, and groaned as the small movement from that alone made his head throb. He hissed as he straightened and took off his outer robe, the small cloth fibers sticking to the wounds on his back. He walked to the shower cubicle, and turned on the water as hot as he could stand it; the steam billowed forth and filled the room quickly.

He swiftly undressed and carefully folded the rest of his clothing, laying them on a bench sitting just underneath the small cabinet. Despite the warmth in the room, he started shaking from a sudden chill and stepped quickly into the cubicle and rolled the door closed behind him. He groaned in relief as the hot water washed away the grime and dried blood from his skin, relaxing his sore muscles and easing the sharp headache that had started to blossom. Castiel closed his eyes and stood under the spray, willing his limbs to stop shaking.

His darkened sight gave him no respite however, as the image of his parents bloomed forth in his mind. Cutting off a harsh cry, he wiped his face harshly. He couldn’t do this, not yet, not before he did what he was charged to do.

 _“We trust you, Castiel,” He could hear his father’s gentle voice echoing in his mind, “We trust you to get the plans safely to Robert Singer, to request his aid. He is the only one who can help us now.”_

 _“Father,” He spoke softly, glancing around the assembled group that was to see him off, “I don’t know if **I** should be the one to get those plans. I’m a senator, not a spy, these plans are too important for someone like me to retrieve them.”_

 _His father’s weathered face split into a bright smile, “Have faith, my son. As I have in you, believe in your abilities to see this through.”_

“No, please,” He whimpered. He shook his head quickly, resolutely refusing to torture himself further. He would deal with this guilt and pain when he saw the Morning Star destroyed, and not before. He choked as endless images of the people he sworn to protect filtered through his mind: his mother, his tutors, the loyal servants, young men, women, children; an endless array of people that had died because he failed to protect them.

 _“They trusted you, Castiel.”_

He gasped; he could never mistake Zayder’s oily melodic voice for anyone else. He looked around, wiped the condensation off the door at the insane thought that somehow the Sith commander stole his way onto the ship. Even though he knew it wasn’t possible, there was no other way to explain how it was that he could hear him.

 _”Has it not occurred to that there is a simple explanation as to why you can hear me, little prince?”_

He panted, shaking his head as he stared blindly forward, as if the man could materialize in front of him, “No-no, I can’t hear you. This is a nervous breakdown, a psychotic episode. This is shock from being held captive and tortured. You can’t hear him. You **can’t** hear him.”

Zayder laughed darkly, and Castiel almost gagged at the sound, _“We are more alike than you care to think. You, me… Jimmy.”_

His eyes welled up, and in a small voice he whispered, “No.”

 _“Oh, yes.”_ Castiel swayed, and he threw up his hand to keep himself balanced as Zayder continued, _“I was rather surprised to see Jimmy, I really wasn’t expecting that. But I’ll forgive you for not telling me that you have a brother, a **twin** , just this once. He is rather powerful for a desert rat.”_

“You know **nothing** about him. Leave him alone, your fight is with me.”

 _“Oh, you lost your ability to sway my hand long before this, prince,”_ Castiel could hear the dark threat in his voice. There was such sinister promise in that voice, _“Such raw power for one so young, just like you. So easy to manipulate, so easy to coax him to the Dark Side…he would be the best pupil I think I ever had.”_

“Don’t try it.” Castiel growled; he would be damned all over again if he let Zayder do as he planned.

 _“Do or do not, there **is** no try, young one. You would know that if you tried your hand at focusing on your abilities instead of defending the Rebel Hunters. All that work, and you have nothing to show for it, your family is dead, your home-world is destroyed, and you led your twin to my attention. Bravo. Oh, and your threat? I will do as I please, with you and your brother.”_ Castiel could hear the pause, _“I guess I have you to thank for bringing him to my attention. You have been so very-helpful. See you on the other side…son.”_

His heart pounded in his chest, no…it couldn’t be, he couldn’t be the son of someone so evil. And how was it possible? He couldn’t breathe, the confined space only served to make him believe that the walls were closing in on him. It was the garbage chute all over again, with no Dean Winchester to hold onto like a lifeline. He supposed that the information shouldn’t have come as such a shock; he looked nothing like his parents.

He fell to his knees, hugging himself tightly as it all became so clear to him. It explained why Zayder was hunting him down, how he seemed to get under his skin so easily, how easy it was for them to be able to communicate so easily now even so far away. He couldn’t muster the hurt or anger that he had been lied to all of his life, after all, he killed his family. What was a lie compared to that?

* * *

Dean walked toward the refresher unit after he found some old clothing that he thought might fit the slender royal. He was surprised to see the emergency light blinking, either the prince had a horrible accident that Dean really didn’t want to know about, or something was very wrong. His brow furrowed as he pushed the button to open the door, wondering why the hell the prince couldn’t see the light and act accordingly. Was he just having too good of a time in the shower?

He steeled his nerve, and walked through the door, gasping at the temperature inside the refresher unit. For someone that had been taking a shower for the past forty minutes, it was awfully cold in there. Space was cold, no matter what kind of heating system was installed in the ship in question, and even though he loved the Millennium Impala almost as much as he loved his brother, she was old and could do with some better upgrading. His eyes fell on the shower door and spared the first rush of anger he felt at seeing that the glass was not just cracked, but punched through when he saw the hunched figure huddled in the corner of the tiny cubicle. The shower door was a minor thing compared to well-being of the prince; the ruined glass was just another thing to add to the list of repairs, which seemed to get longer the more time he spent with the twins.

He shoved that all away guiltily as he heard the breathy noises emerging from the shower, he would have time to bitch about it later, after he figured out what was going on. He stepped over the glass shards easily, cringing as they crunched underneath his boot heels like dry twigs. The shower water was like icy needles against his exposed skin, chilling his exposed flesh as it seeped into his clothes.

He sighed as he imagined how the prince was feeling right about now, he’d been where the royal was and only a short time ago, however Dean was very much alone when he took a little walk out of his head while in the shower. Even though it wasn’t exactly his brother’s fault at wanting something more out of life and left to go to the Academy, he couldn’t help the feeling of abandonment.

He twisted the knob to turn the water off, shaking a little from his lowered body temperature. If he was cold, then the prince had to be freezing. He crouched in front of the huddled figure to gauge his response, of which there was none, his large vacant blue eye were dull and listless. He cursed, and grabbed the robe that he brought with him out of sheer impulse, suddenly glad of that spontaneous action, the prince needed to be covered up to keep the little body heat he had left. Gathering the small figure in his arms, he wrapped the thick cloth around him, cinching it closed around his tapered waist.

Forty damn minutes he was left alone in the shower, Dean had to get him the hell out of there and someplace warm. Standing up in the cubicle while holding his light bundle was easy, but as he turned to walk out he growled in annoyance. With a swift and hard kick, he shattered the rest of the glass that was still clinging to its fastenings. It was already ruined; everyone would just have to deal with not having a door to the shower until he could get it fixed.

He laid Castiel down on the padded bench, under his supply cabinet and next to the heating vent that was carefully concealed, and walked over to the control panel next to the door. He punched a few buttons to crank the heat in the little room, exhaling in relief as he could feel the temperature climbing. He turned back to the prince, gathering his small bundle in his arms and gently chafing his chilled limbs.

“Come on Cas,” He pleaded, gently nudging his shoulder, “Damn it, you’ve got to wake up.”

He smiled as he felt a foot twitch, glad that his efforts were garnering the desired results. He wasn’t ready however, for the prince to suddenly awaken with a loud gasp, nearly kicking him in the face as he scrambled away from Dean. Castiel sat back on his hands, panting as he looked around the room frantically, “A-am I still-What happened? How did you-”

“Hey, hey,” Dean crooned softly, slowly inching his way toward him, making small movements so as not to spook the prince, “Calm down, you’re okay now.” He sat down next the prince, maybe a little closer than was normal, but he figured that he must have done something right since Castiel didn’t shuffle away again. He looked into the prince’s cloudy eyes carefully, “You okay there, Cas?”

The prince looked away, and scrubbed at his face with his hands, “I-yes. I’m fine now.”

The pilot snorted, “You don’t look it.” In fact, a thin stream of blood wound its way down the side of Castiel’s face from a small cut on his forehead. Dean cradled the prince’s head in his rough smuggler’s hands, gently angling it to where he could see the cut clearly, hissing at how jagged it was.

He marveled at the trust the prince displayed, Dean was a stranger after all and could easily kill him if he really wanted to. Castiel was one of those people that had such a helpless look, even underneath there was a strength that most would have been lucky to possess, and so brave to stay calm after everything that had happened. It wasn’t every day that someone was imprisoned and tortured for information by the Galactic Host. Castiel was so many things wrapped up in an enigmatic little package that didn’t cease to turn Dean’s crank. The older Winchester sighed, “Yeah, I’m going to have to clean that. You’re lucky you don’t have a concussion.”

After a short silence, Dean could feel the atmosphere in the small room change drastically, a type of charge in the air that Dean knew quite well. Dean’s eyes flicked down to Castiel’s slightly parted lips, and gulped, “I-I think I need to get you onto the bench…”

The prince said nothing, only nodded. Dean grinned slightly, he really shouldn’t get into this little moment they were currently having, because it would lead to…very bad things. Even though the prince was such a tempting sight: damp hair disheveled and sticking up wildly, the well-worn robe covering all the interesting bits but leaving enough for Dean’s wild imagination, soft lips parted and panting, his darkened eyes at half-mast. It was enough to make Dean need to have a couple strong brews, his mouth was so dry.

Dean shook himself after a few moments; it was really time to get to the job at hand, even if he was tempted beyond belief. The prince was seriously pushing every single one of Dean’s buttons; and all at once. He bit his lip in sudden guilt; here was a person-an innocent person-that needed his help, and all he could think about was how he would look out of that robe. He helped the prince stand, pausing as the slight man stumbled and grabbed Dean’s upper arms, and suddenly Dean was back in the garbage chute. Only this time their respective brothers weren’t there to stop them. This time they were alone.

They gazed into each other’s eyes once more-their breaths mingled between their parted lips-their hearts pounding in tandem as the room heated. Only one move, one small move, and Dean would finally be able to lick those dry lips. One moment-two- and then the spell was broken as Castiel regained his balance, easing out of the intense embrace they found themselves in. Dean wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, he was so sure that Castiel was about to-or at least wanted to-kiss him.

Dean blinked rapidly as he opened the cabinet door for a small towel, and eased the other man onto the bench. He hurried to the sink and dampened the towel with warm water, then went back to kneel before the prince. He tenderly wiped away the blood from Castiel’s forehead, crooning softly as he dabbed at the wound, knowing full-well how that had to sting like a bitch. He didn’t see the prince’s face soften as he looked at the smuggler, nor did he see how his own lips parted as he squinted at the cut, he was focusing so hard at healing the cut that it was a shock to feel Castiel’s fingertips brush his jaw.

Dean couldn’t exactly explain just how it happened; first he was cleaning that small wound, and then he was gazing into Castiel’s wet eyes before he looked away, too ashamed to let the smuggler know he was hurt more than just physically. Dean knew that lost expression, had seen it too many times in the mirror, and ached to wipe that pain away. He made a small sound as a stray tear fell from Castiel’s eye, and gently wiped it away. Their eyes locked, and suddenly they were passionately kissing. He groaned as Castiel kissed him back immediately, throwing himself fully into the slide of their lips. It suddenly didn’t matter that Castiel was royalty and pretty much off-limits to someone like himself, there was something about him that just drew the Winchester like a moth to a flame, he couldn’t resist Castiel’s pull and wasn’t really sure if he wanted to.

He lightly flicked his tongue against Castiel’s bottom lip, groaning at the taste, and wrapped his arms around the prince’s trim waist to pull him closer. Castiel gasped, parting his lips as the smuggler nipped gently, begging entry. With a whimpered moan, the prince plunged his hand into Dean’s closely cropped hair, cupping the back of his head as he opened his mouth to Dean’s questing tongue. Dean’s hips bucked into the prince as he felt the light scratch of his fingernails against his scalp, good god it was like the prince knew everywhere that would send Dean straight to the moon, and they hardly had a chance to spend any time alone. How was it possible that they were able to sink so easily into each other? The intensity alone was enough to send Dean’s mind whirling, the prince’s single-minded focus would have alarmed him at any other time, but for now it just served to send him into a higher state of arousal.

Reluctantly pulling back to allow both of them to breathe, Dean gently nipped along Castiel’s jaw, finally laving at the small spot of skin just below his right ear. Castiel hissed through his teeth, his heart thumping wildly as one of the smuggler’s rough hands slipped from around his waist, and slowly slid up his thigh underneath the robe. The prince cried out as he threw his head back, and clutched Dean tighter, panted hard as Dean softly sucked on his pulse.

They froze as they heard a shocked voice suddenly cry, “Get off my brother!”


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Zayder strolled into the control room in obvious high spirits, and joined Governor Uriel at the huge view screen that stretched across the far wall. He didn’t exactly care what Uriel was looking at, only that the other man was perturbed, his lips pursed as he glared at the screen. The Sith commander grinned and lightly clasped his hands behind his back, rocking slightly on his booted heels. Uriel glanced over at him, making a disapproving sound in his throat before turning back to the screen in front of him, “You look like you’ve had a good day. I can’t imagine why.”

 _No_ , he thought dryly, _of course you wouldn’t, you great fool._ Setting aside how angry he became when Bobby decided to fight him in front of the entire garrison stationed in the hangar- only to just give up at the last moment- and how furious he was when Casitel managed to escape with his cronies, he was actually pleased with how the events of the day played out.

He had managed to destroy the last of the Jedi, discovered that he had another child, and shattered Castiel’s calm reserve…for the time being at least. He was sure that the young man would be able to bounce back from their little conversation, but the dark Sith planted the seeds of doubt, and that was all that mattered. He did count on Castiel to break and join him while still on the Morning Star, but he wouldn’t be where he was now if he didn’t come up with alternative plans.

“Would you rather having me angry? Because I can assure you,” he said darkly as he turned towards the other man, who drew back slightly, “I would be able to arrange that.”

Uriel shook his head and looked away, anxious to change the subject, “What news on the Millennium Impala?”

“Well, after they vanquished your sub-par pilots,” Zayder grinned at the slight flinch that caused, “They made the jump into hyperspace.”

“So you confirm that the homing beacon that my men placed on their ship is in working order?” Uriel tensely asked, “I am risking more than you know, Zayder.”

The objective was to find out where the Rebel Hunters’ base was; Uriel believed that the prince would want to get the information he had gleaned to them as soon as possible, and Zayder knew that he wasn’t wrong in that assumption. Uriel ordered a small group to place a tiny homing beacon into the Millennium Impala, after the unfortunate events in the detention area. The Sith commander felt it prudent to keep the homing device on their side, so that he would know where his prey was at all times. Whoever aided Castiel and Jimmy in their escape will pay dearly once Zayder found them.

Oh yes, there would be Hell to pay.

He grinned with malicious glee, “You just concern yourself with running the Morning Star, Governor. Let me handle the more important matters.”

* * *

Dean slowly pulled back from gnawing on the prince’s neck; the voice was unusually loud in the balmy room, the words sharp and commanding. It was an instinctual thing to obey- his father was a hard man to ignore, and instilled that obedience in the boys early on, though the man had been dead for years; so Dean was nonetheless surprised and dismayed as he turned to see the slight figure of Jimmy in the doorway to the refresher. He was white as a ghost, with a slight shade of green that Dean never knew an actual human being could achieve, and stared at them with wide eyes. Dean bit his lip and sat back on his heels, he had a feeling that this was going to be bad.

To make matters worse, he could hear his little brother’s distinctive footfalls coming closer. He closed his eyes as the footsteps stopped, “What’s going on? I heard Jimmy-Uh, Dean…what’re you-”

“This is very awkward,” Jimmy sighed, his voice shaking a little as he came down from his shock, “I… walked in on Dean taking advantage of my brother.”

Dean opened his eyes and frowned at the shorter man as he tried to diffuse the situation, “Look Jim-”

“Whoa, wait a minute here, Jimmy,” Sam interrupted, “My brother would never-”

“Then how would you explain it, Sam?” Jimmy asked reasonably, “Castiel hardly knows Dean, why would he let Dean…you know.” He made a vague gesture, coloring slightly in embarrassment.

Dean huffed, he was starting to get a bit irritated at being interrupted, “Guys-”

“Oh come on,” Sam scoffed lightly, rolling his eyes at the shorter man, “My brother would never take advantage of someone that didn’t want it, how do you know that Castiel didn’t lead him on? Besides,” he pointed at long finger at Jimmy, “You don’t exactly know any of us, including your brother.”

Dean sighed, “Sammy-”

“I may not know everything about him Sam, and I’m not saying that I do,” Jimmy went on to explain, “I just find it hard to believe that Castiel would start something like this so suddenly. Being tortured wouldn’t incite me to get jiggy with a perfect stranger.”

Dean made a disgusted face, “Get jiggy? What are you, twelve?” He huffed impatiently when his jibe didn’t garner any response from the other two.

“What I meant was,” Sam said carefully, “You don’t exactly know how this all went down, maybe they wanted to…I don’t know, forget about all of that.”

Dean honestly couldn’t believe that the two men were talking about them like they weren’t sitting just a few feet away. He felt his face heat, and knew that he was blushing furiously; this wasn’t what he intended to happen. He honestly just wanted to bring the prince his clothes, maybe help him with some of his wounds-Castiel at least wearing pants by that time-go back to his cabin and hopefully sleep away the rest of his horrible day. Now he just felt as though his good intentions had snowballed into the biggest cluster-fuck he could possibly make, all because he forgot to lock the door. Granted, at the frightening sight of the refresher when he first entered, locking the door didn’t enter into his mind.

He glanced at Castiel, who wrapped his borrowed robe closer around his body, and gave him a small apologetic grin. He was troubled as Castiel gazed back at him for only a moment before dropping away, to focus on his brother. Jimmy seemed to study the scene in front of him with new eyes, giving Dean some hope that maybe the other man wouldn’t drive Dean and Castiel apart.

“I can tell that there is more to this than I originally thought, but what do you think is going to happen once we return to the Rebel Hunters?” Jimmy asked the room softly. Dean’s stomach dropped, the other man had a point, though it bugged him to admit that the man was right.

“Enough.”

Castiel’s voice was low and rough, the timber of his voice was soft but firm, silencing the room better than shouting would have. The prince brushed past Dean as he slowly stood, leaving Dean feeling cold, “I do not wish to discuss this in front of an audience; this is a private matter between Dean and I. I wish it to remain as such.”

Although Dean felt utter dread at being alone with Castiel once the other two men left- a part of him knew that they weren’t going to continue what they were doing before Jimmy interrupted them- he couldn’t help but smile with pride as the smaller man stood up to his brother. Dean had found it difficult early on to be firm with Sam, even to this day he had a hard time standing up to his younger brother.

Castiel’s eyes scanned the two men before him, and continued quietly, “I will not have the both of you arguing; it is neither the time nor place for this. If I objected to any treatment on my person, I would have stopped it myself.” Castiel’s eyes softened only slightly as he looked over to Jimmy, “It is not your job to defend me, Jimmy. I understand that you feel the need to help me, but I have been alive just as long as you, and in this situation, I do not need your assistance.”

Dean took that time to get up off of the floor, and sat on the bench seat near the heating unit. He rubbed his face; he was so tired and for reasons he couldn’t explain, and it seemed that whatever force was out there controlling things- a force that Dean didn’t and never would believe in- wasn’t through screwing around with his life. He vaguely heard the prince asking- nay, commanding- the two other men to leave the room. This time the atmosphere in the room was tense, less intimate than it was before, when it was just the two of them.

The silence after the door slid shut was deafening, save the soft sounds of Castiel dressing. Dean averted his eyes while the prince dressed, suddenly uncomfortable. He looked back at Castiel after a few minutes, sure that he was finished. Gulping, he gazed at the sight before him; it was a major turn-on for him to see the prince in his old clothing. He thought that the clothing would be too big- Dean was built differently than the slender prince- but they fit him perfectly.

The clothes were simple and well-worn, but Castiel wore them elegantly. Black, shiny boots wrapped around his calves, fitting to his feet and legs as if they were made specifically to him. Navy blue, rough-weave breeches fit snugly, but not overly tight. A white shirt was tucked neatly into the breeches, with a black jacket thrown over it, for added warmth while they were between planets. Dean looked down at his own clothing, and was amused to see that they matched, right down to the shiny boots. He wondered whether he should look into a more varied wardrobe.

“Dean.”

He looked up into Castiel’s serious face, and guessed that the time for talking was at hand. He sighed and leaned his back against the wall, “Cas.”

He saw the prince’s lip twitch at the moniker, “I thank you for the clothing.”

The smuggler shrugged, “Don’t mention it; it’s the least I could do.”

They looked away from each other, and then it was so quiet, so tense that Dean was even more uncomfortable. Dean exhaled, and asked quietly, “So who’s going to bring it up, you or me?”

He looked back to see Castiel gazing at the floor, wishing the man who look him in the eye if they were going to do this. The prince leaned against the sink, and held the edges in a loose grip, “I believe that Jimmy raised a valid point.”

“You mean about the Rebel Hunters?” Dean couldn’t honestly see where they had anything to do with what was going on between him and Castiel. Come to think of it, Dean himself didn’t really understand how he could feel so close to someone without actually spending a whole day with them, all that he did know was that he wanted to pursue that connection. He could count on one hand how many times he felt that strongly about another person and still have a few fingers left. Dean didn’t know whether that was good, or really pathetic.

“Yes,” the prince answered quietly, “I have found myself in an awkward position.” _More awkward than the one we were in before?_ Dean thought. As he caught Castiel coloring slightly, he had a panicked thought that the other man could actually hear him just then. He breathed a sigh of relief as Castiel cleared his throat and continued, “I have an obligation to lead them- many of them are the last living survivors of Alderaan. As such, they see me as their ruler, though I have no throne to speak of.”

“So, what?” Dean asked skeptically, “They won’t want you having a bit of fun?”

“It isn’t just that,” Castiel said, “Its always important when a royal has a… a mate, if you will. The Hunters are bound to notice if we act differently to each other. Since you are an outsider, someone they had never seen in my company before, they wouldn’t trust you.”

“And why would that make a difference?” Dean shot back, “People meet each other every day, and you’d think that they would be more trusting since I liberated you from the Galactic Host.”

“Some wouldn’t see it that way. They would think…”

 _And here we come to the gist of it,_ Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes, and finally stood, getting near enough to the other man that he could see the rise and fall of Castiel’s chest, “They would think I’m working for them as a spy because I’m a smuggler, is that it?”

“In not so many words,” Castiel whispered carefully, “It would be detrimental to my leadership if they started questioning my decisions, you know that.”

“I do,” Dean agreed, but he didn’t like it any less, “I think it’s the stupidest reason not to pursue something that could turn out to be really awesome- but who am I to decide for you? If you don’t want me, then you don’t, there’s nothing I can do to change that.” He almost turned away from the prince at that, but a hand to his chest stopped him. He glanced down at it in surprise, and looked back up to see the slight distressed look in the other man’s eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want you, Dean,” he said softly, “But you must understand how delicate this is. If anyone found out my affection for you- that information in the wrong hands could mean disaster.” Castiel’s eyes slid to the shower cubicle for a few moments, and why, Dean didn’t know. The other man was clearly troubled, and he owed it to Castiel to at least hear him out.

He brushed his hand against Castiel’s cheek, his skin rasping lightly against the stubble, “Whatever it is, tell me. I can fix it.”

Castiel leaned against that hand, and breathed, “You can’t fix this.”

To say that Dean was alarmed was an understatement, “Cas, you have to let this out. You have enough on your shoulders; let me take some of the burden.”

Castiel’s eyes were bright as they locked onto Dean’s, “The Galactic Host- Zayder- is still looking for me. They will not rest, they will cut through everything- **everyone** \- just to find me.” He shook his head, and exhaled shakily, “Everyone I loved, everyone I cared for, has died because of Zayder. If anything were to happen to you or Jimmy, because you were close to me? I couldn’t bear that.”

So Castiel could feel what was between them just as strongly as Dean could, which made this conversation hurt all the more. He knew the prince was right, but he wouldn’t be Dean Winchester if he didn’t try to save this, “I can’t be pushed away that easy, Cas. I’m not afraid of Zayder, and I won’t be killed that easy.”

“You should be afraid of him,” Castiel warned quietly, “He is a very evil man that will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

“So you are just going to stop him all by yourself?” Dean asked incredulously, “What about Jimmy? What about me? We can help you.”

“I will send Jimmy away, somewhere that Zayder cannot find him,” Castiel intoned, the rough voice sounded almost desperate, “And I cannot ask you to help me, this isn’t your fight.”

“Not my fight?” Dean moved back, “In case you haven’t noticed, Bobby was more than my friend, and Zayder killed him to save us. That’s more than enough reason for me to kill that asshat,” he held up a hand as Castiel opened his mouth. He understood that there was more to Bobby letting himself die than met the eye, but that didn’t make him any less angry about it. “Besides,” Dean shrugged, “That’s what Winchesters do, we save people.”

“I don’t need saving.” Castiel growled.

“Yes, you do,” Dean argued, “This little crusade you’re on? It’s going to get you killed. Sure, you can shoot TIE fighters down left and right, but that doesn’t mean that you are a warrior. At the end of all of this, you will have to fight him, and none of your training is going to help you. It's experienced warriors you are going to need and you can’t afford to push volunteers ready to help just because you’re afraid of killing people. You aren’t equipped for leadership if you are afraid that other people **might** end up getting hurt.”

Castiel sighed, “It seems you have an answer for everything.”

“I do,” The smuggler grinned, “As for Jimmy? It would be cruel to send him away, you know that. You are all he has left, and he’s all that you have left of family. You never, **ever** , abandon family. No matter what the reasoning is.”

“Then what do you propose we do?”

Dean slowly grinned as he brushed Castiel’s hair back, “I say we kiss,” he put his words into action, sealing his lips over Castiel’s. For a moment, time slowed as they slowly explored each other’s mouth, their slick tongues tangling in renewed passion. Dean sighed as he felt Castiel pulling him closer, his arms curling around his waist to lightly clutch his back. Dean pulled back a little before they would get stuck in a similar situation as before and chuckled, “And make-up.”

“What happens when we reach the base?” Castiel asked, his voice muffled as he laid his head on the smuggler’s muscled shoulder.

Dean rested his head against Castiel’s, and whispered, “They won’t have to know anything, like you said to Jimmy and Sam-this is a private thing between us. We’ll just…be very careful.”

The smuggler shuddered as he felt Castiel’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of his neck as he spoke, “This is dangerous, Dean. This could end badly.”

“It could,” Dean agreed, “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

* * *

It was unusually quiet in the cock-pit when Dean entered- after showing Castiel to passenger sleeping area- the soft beeping of the controls the only sound. Dean was brought up short in the doorway at the sight of his brother; he was facing him in his co-pilot’s chair with his arms folded across his chest, a stony look on his young features, and the older Winchester braced himself for a monumental bitch fit. He should have known that his brother was not fine with the scene in the refresher unit as he seemed to act. Dean grunted as he copied Sam’s position, only leaned against the doorframe, his face just as serious as his jaw tensed. He exhaled through his nose in sudden frustration, “What?”

Sam cocked his eyebrow, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m standing here looking at my bitch of a brother, what’s it look like?” Dean shot back.

The younger Winchester rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean, Dean.”

Dean shook his head as he moved to sit in the captain’s chair, “It’s none of your business,” he stated through clenched teeth as he leaned into the soft leather. He stared out into the vast expanse of space through the view-screen before him, and cursed that they were still hours away from the Rebel Hunter base. He didn’t want to have yet another tense conversation with his brother; it wasn’t what either of them needed at the moment.

“Yes it **is** my business, Dean. We’re in this together, believe it or not.”

Dean glared, “My sex life has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it.”

Sam scoffed in disgust, “When you bring your sex life into the refresher unit, it’s hard to stay out of it.”

“Okay, so that was a mistake,” Dean admitted, “But look, it happened and it’s not like I can take it back now. I wouldn’t even if I could.”

“Can you hear yourself right now?” Sam asked incredulously, “You do understand that getting it on with a prince is stupid, right? Why would you think a prince would want to put everything on the line for-” He stopped suddenly.

“For what, Sam?” Dean asked his younger brother darkly, “For a guy like me?” Yeah, Dean knew that it probably wouldn’t work out, the man was a prince and was used to a certain lifestyle- a lifestyle in which Dean couldn’t and most likely wouldn’t try to provide.

Dean knew he was attractive, had inherited his looks from his very attractive parents, but looks could only go so far. He could get annoying; the two Winchesters had some pretty epic battles because Dean couldn’t leave well enough alone. He admitted that he had a lot of faults, and kept his life a secret from his significant others. Even with all of those reasons why they shouldn’t be together, he still wanted to try. Couldn’t Dean have something for himself, just this once? Something that didn’t have anything to do with his family or the rotten choices he’s made so far?

“That’s not what I was going to say-”

Dean sighed and roughly rubbed his face, “I don’t really care what you think about it, and didn’t I tell you that we aren’t going to talk about that?”

Sam scowled and looked away, “Fine.” He stabbed a few button and read the readouts from a small screen, “We’re six hours away from the base, so once we get there, we’ll be able to drop them off and forget this ever happened.”

Sam paused as he didn’t hear a response back from Dean, and asked quietly, “Right, Dean?”

The other Winchester shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “I was thinking…about helping them.” He owed it to them- to Bobby- to help the Rebel Hunters. If he could redeem the horrible things he had done under Alastair’s employ, and destroy the most evil force gripping the galaxy while he was at it? He would do it in a heartbeat. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to live with himself if he turned his back on Bobby’s sacrifice, if he turned his back on Castiel.

Sam slumped in his seat, “You have got to be kidding me, dude.”

“They need help, Sam-”

“This isn’t our fight, Dean!” Sam shouted, “We don’t owe them anything!”

“We may not owe **them** , but we owe Bobby. He gave his life-”

“He gave his life to save us, Dean,” Sam interrupted, “Not to have us go join a failed cause.”

A failed cause, that’s how Sam wanted to phrase it? The eldest Winchester shook his head in disappointment; he suddenly realized why Bobby asked Dean to see their journey through- for when the going got tough, Sam got going. It was a horrible thought to think about his brother, but Sam was never one to fight for anything except for a normal life. He couldn’t blame the younger man; after losing their mother, their father went off the deep end, taking any bounty hunting job he could find to drown himself of her memory. Since he was saddled with two children by that time, he had to cart them around as well, pulling them into his dark life.

Soon, all the boys had were each other, even after Bobby started to take care of them. Only when they were old enough to start going out on their own did they find out that John Winchester pulled some strings to send Sammy to the Academy, keeping the money in an account that they couldn’t touch until the time came. The only thing John left Dean were his weapons, his ship- the Millennium Impala- and a lifelong debt to the crime lord Alastair that Dean wasn’t sure he could ever repay. As soon as Sam was old enough, and was accepted to the Academy on Coruscant, he left without looking back… leaving Dean utterly alone. Four years had flown by, the only communication between the brothers were the occasional holo-messages spaced few and far between due to Dean’s work with Alastair.

“It’s not a failed cause, Sam. It’s what’s right.” Dean wasn’t just disappointed to hear that coming from his brother, he was also guilty. He felt guilty that by just his presence in Sam’s life, his brother started to change into a person that closely resembled their father by each passing day. He knew he should have never visited Coruscant two years ago; if he hadn’t, his brother would be happy with a steady job and his beautiful fiancé, Jessica.

Sam shook his head, “We can’t go up against the Galactic Host, Dean. They’ll kill us; all we will accomplish is to piss them off a little before they blow us up.” Sam shook his head, “No, we’re **not** doing this. I’m not going to watch you die just because you feel the need to help some guy you made out with in our bathroom.”

Dean made a disapproving sound in his throat, “Sam-”

“No,” Sam interrupted, “If you decide to fight, then I’m not going to be there to watch the fall out.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be then?” He honestly didn’t think that Sam would drop that ultimatum on him, he grew cold with shock. He should have known- Sam always fought dirty- he learned that from his older brother. He never thought that Sam would use the same lessons on Dean that he painstakingly taught his younger brother while they were growing up. He knew where this sudden anger came from, this desperate desire to keep his brother away from the fighting, though they never spoke of it. Sam never wanted to talk about Jessica, and Dean was loathe to bring it up, dreading what would come out of the conversation.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, his hands clenched on the steering column, “I’m not going to lose you too, over something this reckless.”

* * *

Dean sighed as he entered his private sleeping quarters, and leaned against the door once it swooshed closed behind him. After the uncomfortable conversation with Sam, he had decided to leave the cockpit and try to get a few hours’ sleep. With his recent bouts of insomnia-let alone the day he had- he wasn’t all too sure he would be able to get any rest.

With a hopeful gaze at his bed that was built into the wall, he shrugged off his dark jacket and slumped into the steel chair next to the door. He slowly leaned down to unbuckle his boots, and afterwards unstrapped the blaster from his thigh. It was about as much as he was willing to undress while out in space, and so soon after a fight with TIE fighters. There could still be more out there, and could be tracking the Millennium Falcon at that very moment. There were too many variables out there to consider, and he had to make sure that if or when they were attacked, that he was ready.

One of those variables had to do with the two strangers that were currently dwelling in their ship. He didn’t like the thought that they would want to kill him in his sleep, but in this day and age, one cannot be too careful. Not only were the two brothers strangers to Dean and Sam, one of them was a key player in the destruction of the Galactic Host, the other- well, he could very well be a spy for the Galactic Host: Jimmy was a stranger to Dean, had lived very close to Bobby and had recently spent a significant amount of time around the older man. Dean wasn’t about to trust anyone- save his brother- no matter how friendly they seemed to be or how genuine.

He stood, rubbing the back of his neck wearily- already his mind shutting down. Dean trudged to his bed; the unstrapped blaster caged in his tightly fisted hand, and fell face first into his pillow. The blaster was shoved underneath the other pillow, aimed at the wall to make sure he didn’t accidentally blow his own head off. It was a position that came naturally to him, made it easier to fall asleep- even if it was a light doze.

All too soon, that feeling of dread that roiled through his stomach ever since entering the Morning Star came back with a vengeance. It grew colder in his room, and Dean shivered in his sleep as the first tendrils of a dream- no, a memory- came into focus.

 _It was a blissful, sunny afternoon; the warm sun was shining in his face as he stood in the middle of a crowded marketplace. He scanned the crowd, looking for his brother’s familiar form. A smile stretched across his tanned face as he spotted the tall man walking with a beautiful woman, and thought of how happy his little brother looked. He raised a hand, caught his brother’s attention; although it quickly faded as his brother’s face drained of all color, the red light of a blaster bolt soared over Dean’s shoulder. It struck home in the tall woman’s chest with alarming accuracy; she fell, her skin pale as a ghost’s, matching his brother’s as he stumbled to catch her._

 _Voices faded, the soothing sound of wind chimes near him pealed, the breeze cooling like a death chill, and the once soothing rays of the sun burned in his eyes as he raced towards his stunned brother. Glancing over his shoulder his heart seized as he recognized the armor of a strange man standing amongst the crowd. The man lowered his arm, stood to stare for one more moment, before disappearing in a blink of an eye. As he came upon the devastating scene, it seemed like Dean and his brother traded perspective. Now Dean was the one looking up at his brother, the younger man gazing down upon him in shock and remorse. He blinked, and is attention suddenly focused on the body that he was cradling with such care. His stomach dropped, for gazing up at him in such disbelief was the one person he had allowed himself to care deeply for._

 _Castiel._

The smuggler sat up suddenly in his bed, the sheets tangled around his form, his skin clammy with cold sweat. His muscles were shaking in panic, the dream had felt all too real, and Dean knew that the prince had become far too close for his own good. He lifted the hand that held his blaster, making a small sound of surprise as it was empty.

He didn’t have to look for it, the blaster was set upon the table beside his bed, and sitting beside him was the reason for his current state of being. The young prince was sitting primly in the steel chair, his hands resting lightly atop his thighs. Dean wanted to squirm under that guileless blue gaze, he was never a recipient of such attention before, and wasn’t used to seeing Castiel gazing at him with such openness.

Dean frowned and rubbed his face to will away the slight tremors, “Dude, you’re watching me sleep? That’s…creepy.”

“I heard you,” He said softly.

“You heard me?” Dean asked flatly, “Through the steel walls and the blast doors? I find that hard to believe.”

Castiel looked away, his eyes never blinking as he looked around the room, “I cannot explain it myself. All that I know was that I awoke to the sound of your voice. I knew that you were distressed, so I...”

“You came to see me,” he answered for the prince, almost whispering. He couldn’t explain how he felt about that, the honesty in which Castiel said it. He felt a loosening in his chest, a lightness that he hadn’t felt for a very long time. His leaned back against his headboard, and picked at his blanket, needing something to do with his hands.

Which stilled as Castiel covered one with his own. Dean looked up and their eyes caught, once again he felt that same intensity as before, only muted now. They watched each other, neither one was ready to speak, and Dean wondered just what exactly Castiel could see in his eyes. The last dregs of that dream still weighed on him, it wasn’t just what happened that bothered him; it was the switch in perspective. The dream never changed like that before; he was never one to let people get so close to him, and now that the dream had changed, he feared for Castiel’s life. Sam was right; he had to let the prince go, even though it hurt Dean to think about it.

Castiel’s brow furrowed slightly, and his head tilted to the side, “What were you dreaming about?”

He had a chance to tell him, tell the prince the truth and strengthen the bond that Dean knew had to be growing more with each passing minute in each other’s company. If he did that though, it would only hurt more once Dean left for good. So he shoved away those feeling that blossomed in his chest whenever he was near the prince, closed them off so that they wouldn’t influence him into staying, and he made his body relax. He winked at the prince, noting the confusion that suffused Castiel’s face and said, “Rats. They freak me out.”

The prince drew back, and frowned. He thought- knew- that it was something else; something that the smuggler before him was keeping secret. Why he wouldn’t tell the prince, Castiel didn’t know. A part of him questioned why Dean would ever share any confidence with the royal, they hardly knew each other, and Castiel hadn’t earned the right to ask. So Castiel watched as his hands threaded together and nodded silently, sensing that something was changing between him, and felt his shoulders tense with dread.

There was a knock at the door, and Dean sighed. Whoever it was, they were going to question why the prince was in his room, but at the moment he didn’t care. He straightened and called, “Come in.”

The door opened, and Sam frowned as he caught sight of the prince, “We’re in the Yavin system. I need Castiel’s directions to the base.”

Castiel’s eyes flicked to Dean’s, his face was shadowed as he sensed the tension between the brothers, especially in his company. He stood from his chair and turned to Dean, wanting to say something- anything- to bring back that intimacy they shared before. Because at that moment, with Sam waiting impatiently in the door, and Dean so closed off, it was starting to feel like ‘goodbye’.

* * *

A few minutes later, they approached the moon where the secret Rebel Hunter base resided. They dropped into orbit, and Dean leaned back in his seat, feeling sick at the thought of leaving them to attack the Morning Star alone. They would be better off without him- he knew- and Dean felt that by just being near him, their luck would swiftly turn bad.

He watched as the scenery changed from a starlit sky, to clouds, and then to a beautiful jungle landscape. Dean had visited many planets in his line of work, all of them ranging from a vast desert, to an endless seascape. He had to say, that it was nice to see such a lush area: it was as if he could smell the greenery, feel the moisture in the air, and the heat that would most assuredly feel stifling after a few minutes. The silvery mist gilded the gentle folds of the jungle, and shrouded the ancient temple that Castiel directed them to.

As they opened the hatch to exit the ship, they were immediately beset by the warm, humid air, the air redolent with exotic flowers. The cries of hidden creatures echoed in the open space in the clearing, their song disrupted by the roaring of a vehicle approaching the small group. Each man looked at one another, nodded, and entered the vehicle with Castiel sitting solemnly in the front. Dean shivered as they drove into the mouth of the temple, be it from the sudden cool shade or perhaps from the ominous imagery of being swallowed by darkness, it was uncertain.

The military vehicle stopped in a large room, small fighter ships ringed the area, and supplies were strewn about in relaxed clusters. The vehicle was soon surrounded by men- all of them Rebel Hunters- and only one seemed to be recognizable to Castiel. Dean knew him to be the commander of these men, he wore the stripes of a military man, and everyone seemed to answer to him. He felt a vicious stab of jealousy as the man’s face broke into a bright smile at the sight of Castiel. The smuggler looked over to see Castiel’s eyes soften, the only way the prince seemed to smile, and knew that they were friends. The older man walked over to Castiel’s door, opened it for him and gripped the prince’s offered forearm- it was a form of handshake for the Rebel Hunters.

The older man quickly pulled the prince into a one-armed hug, saying fiercely, “We thought we lost you, your highness. It is beyond well to see that you are safe.” He drew back and cleared his throat to compose himself and bowed, “When we received word about Alderaan...we feared that we had lost you along with your father. May Faith rest his soul.”

Castiel looked down for a brief moment, mourning the loss of a great man, and straightened, “Now is not the time to drown in our grief, Commander. I fear-” Castiel chanced a look to Dean, “that the Morning Star has tracked us here. It is the only way to explain the ease of our escape. To plan the attack, you must use the information stored in the R2 unit. It is our only chance.”

A few of the commander’s men retrieved BeckyD2, and led her to a closed-off area. “They are taking the droid to our war room,” the commander explained, “There it will be examined by our technicians to retrieve the plans. The men are pleased to see that you are safe- myself included. Raphael wishes to speak with you, but you clearly look in need of rest, my prince.”

Castiel nodded; the strain that he was barely keeping in check seemed to suffuse his being for a quick second before he masked it once again, “I will rest when we are not in such a weak position, commander. It is refreshing to hear that Raphael was not lost as well, I assumed that he was still grounded on Alderaan.”

The commander made a face; Raphael was not as popular with the Rebel Hunters as Castiel was. The man had a temper, and was more aloof in his regard to others. Castiel knew he could be closed off at times, but Raphael could be so unapproachable, that it came off as rude. Castiel’s father had problems with him, especially when Raphael would speak up in his own defense, unwilling to take Castiel’s direction. He was grounded from travelling as punishment for his attitude. The commander coughed delicately, “It seems that Raphael and your father reconciled before…the unfortunate events. He joined us the moment he could, about to suggest a rescue mission for you.”

Dean’s brow furrowed, that piece of information didn’t sit well with the smuggler, nor with the rest of the men gathered. To send anyone to the Morning Star was murder, they would have been killed in moments, if they were lucky. The Galactic Host was sure to recognize the colors of the Rebel Hunters, and act accordingly. Dean wanted desperately to speak up, to help their situation in some way, to warn Castiel, but one look at his brother shut him up. It seemed that their time with the Rebel Hunters, and their reluctant leader, was growing short.

Castiel nodded respectfully at the commander, his face revealing nothing, “Then it is well that he survived."

* * *

He could taste them, they were that close.

Zayder knew he shouldn’t let the impatience that was roiling through his being consume him, but they were so very close. He couldn’t wait to choke the life from the captain’s body when the Sith found him. He could just imagine the look on the prince’s face as he slowly slaughtered every single Rebel Hunter currently dwelling in the base right in front of him. He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of the intercom beeping. He turned to see Uriel’s lips thin as he pushed the button, “What is it?”

“We are approaching the planet Yavin, sir,” the tinny voice said, “the Rebel Hunter base is on the farthest moon, on the other side of the planet. We are preparing to orbit.”

Zayder turned back to the large view-screen before him and smiled once again with evil glee, “Excellent.”

* * *

The Rebel Hunters were gathered in a large room, Castiel and the other senators were sitting off to one side lining the wall. The rest of the men took up any space that they could- Jimmy was surrounded by star pilots, navigators, and droids sitting on anything they could find- with Raphael standing in all of his glory before a giant electronic wall display. Jimmy frowned; Castiel should have been up there to address the Rebel Hunters, though it seemed that due to the other man’s nature, Castiel was tossed to the side. He caught sight of the Winchester brothers near the back, next to the exit blast doors and for some reason, Jimmy had the worst feeling of apprehension than ever before. Sam leaned against the wall beside the doorway with his arms folded, while all Dean could do was slump beside him. Everyone- save the two brothers- were focused totally on Raphael and Jimmy could feel the apprehension of everyone involved.

“Good morning, gentlemen. We don’t have much time, so save the questions until after the meeting. We are gathered here for a momentous occasion, to destroy the Morning Star for good. To be able to destroy the battle station, we must learn what exactly we are up against. The Morning Star is heavily shielded, so a direct attack will be impossible,” Raphael motioned to the digital display behind him, “This battle station carries a firepower that’s greater than half of our star fleet, and we have all seen what it can do. However, since its defense is designed around a direct, large-scale assault, a small one-man fighter would be able to penetrate its outer defenses.”

Raphael nodded as a man in the front row of the group raised his hand, he would have been irritated if it was anyone other than the best fighter pilot in their fleet. The man’s uniform was mostly gold and white- the colors of the Rebel Hunter’s armada- his handle was Gold Leader, and was addressed as such by the other men. Gold leader nodded back and lowered his hand, “Permission to speak freely sir, but what is a one-man fighter against a force like that?”

“That is because the Galactic Host doesn’t consider a one-man fighter as much of a threat, or their defense would be tighter, considering both their battle station and their general security.” Raphael’s jaw tightened as he glanced at Castiel for a moment, “Our analysis of the plans provided by Prince Castiel gave us a clear view of a weakness in the Morning Star.” He laced his fingers behind his back, and walked across the display, “Our approach will not be easy.”

He stopped at the left side of the display, and the hologram shifted to display Raphael’s narration, “One fighter is to maneuver through the main trench, and skin along the surface until they reach this small area.” He gestured to a small opening along the trench, “This targeted space is about two meters wide. It is a small, thermal exhaust port, right below the main port. The shaft leads directly to the main reactor, a precise hit will start a chain reaction which will destroy the station.”

Jimmy exhaled an anxious breath, and he could feel the unease of everyone around him, the room a-buzz with tense discussion. After a few moments, all the attention drew back to Raphael, who stood beside the wall display stiffly. His pursed lips relaxed, and he spoke quietly, “ **Only** a precise shot will set off the chain reaction, gentlemen. The shaft will be ray-shielded, so there will be need for the proton torpedoes.”

“Then it’s hopeless!” A man beside Jimmy explained, “There is no one living that could accomplish that, even if you programmed a computer.”

Jimmy snorted, the sound silencing the room as all eyes turned to the young man. Coloring slightly, Jimmy went on to explain, “It’s not exactly that hard, my uncle and I used to bulls eye womp rats near the homestead. There weren’t that much bigger than two meters.”

It was so quiet in their war room that Jimmy grew uncomfortable really quick, and all the men were staring at him. Dean winked at him from the doorway, Castiel’s face relaxed, but Raphael on the other hand- he seemed to be almost glaring at Jimmy. The man paused as he gazed over the assembled men; everyone could feel that this could be their last mission- that they would not survive this time. It had a sobering effect on the crowd, but Jimmy knew that these were the type of people that will never turn back, no matter what the cost. Raphael nodded, “To your ships, and may faith go with you.”

* * *

The Morning Star moved steadily closer to the moon base; Zayder was caught between that moment of triumph and the sobering moments of caution before battle. He was a realist, no matter what accomplishments the Galactic Host made; there was always a chance that this time they could be defeated. He had a plan if the Morning Star failed- Zayder was a survivalist at heart- and would implement that very strategy if all else failed. He would join the garrison when they fought the Rebel Hunters- entertaining nostalgic memories, yes- and will show the Rebel Hunters the power of the Galactic Host.

He heard the voice on the intercom alert them, “We are orbiting the planet Yavin at maximum velocity, Commander. The Rebel hunter base will be in sight within thirty minutes.”

“This day is going to go down in the holocrons. We have seen the end of Robert Singer, and will witness the destruction of the Rebel Hunters,” Zayder inhaled, and slapped a hand on Uriel’s shoulder; he was feeling positively giddy with excitement for the battle, “Drink it in, Uriel.”

* * *

Jimmy stood from his chair to leave with the other men, searching the room for any sight of the Winchesters. His stomach dropped as he couldn’t find them, though why it did he wasn’t sure; he knew that they were around somewhere, it wasn’t like they would leave without saying goodbye- at least he didn’t think they would.

His brow furrowed, he had to find them and make sure they weren’t about to do something foolish. He was stopped by a hand on his arm, his gaze locked with Castiel’s, “I need to find them, Cas. I have a bad feeling.”

Castiel gazed at him in all seriousness, and nodded, “Then I shall trust your judgment. We will find them.”

They left the room, and searched the hangar for any sign of either the two brothers or the Millennium Impala. It took only a few minutes, and Jimmy’s bad feeling tripled when he saw the two brothers set apart from the rest of the pilots. The Rebel Hunters were making the last minute checks on the X-wings: making sure everything was in working order before setting out on their mission. The two brothers however, were doing no such thing, much to Jimmy’s disappointment. Dean’s back was to them, while Sam scurried around the area to check for any last-minute repairs they could do. They were surrounded by large canisters, obviously the reward that Raphael gave for the rescue of their prince.

Jimmy stopped suddenly in shock, oblivious to the other men forced to move around him, “What are you doing?”

Dean froze momentarily, up until now he was focused on just getting the money into the ship, and only then would he think of a way to leave without causing any grief. It seemed as though his plans weren’t going the way he wanted them to today. His eyes closed for a moment, taken aback at the amount of betrayal in Jimmy’s voice. They would be better off without him around- he just had to keep reminding himself of that. He forced his voice to harden, and kept his back to him, “Exactly what it looks like, we’re leaving.”

Jimmy frowned, “So that’s it? You get your reward and…you’re done?”

Sam walked up to the group when he heard Jimmy’s voice, it was his idea to leave, so he wasn’t about to let his brother handle the consequences of his decision. He stopped at the other side of the large canister that Dean was securing, and felt a little guilty at seeing the clenched look on Dean’s face. Sam sighed, “It’s not just that Jimmy-”

“No, it’s exactly that,” Dean interrupted harshly; his frustration was echoed by his actions as he viciously jerked the straps that held the canisters to the loading decks they were resting on, “I have debts that I need to pay off using this money.”

“How much?”

Dean’s stomach dropped as he heard Castiel’s quiet voice- he wasn’t expecting him to be standing there with his twin. He turned around slowly, and felt worse when he caught sight of Castiel’s cold expression, “Cas…” _Please don’t do this,_ Dean thought.

“How much did you receive for my rescue?” Castiel asked again doggedly.

Dean struggled with the answer, knowing full well that money wasn’t the only thing Castiel was asking about. He knew full well that it made Dean look like such a cad, taking the money and leaving after what they shared together. He really needed the money, to save not only his own life- but his brother’s. He had to leave, and not just because his brother threatened to leave without him. Really, if Dean was being honest with himself, it all came down to one thing.

Fear.

Dean was afraid of losing not only his brother, but was afraid of losing Castiel as well. The prince managed to break through every barrier that Dean erected, the smuggler had revealed so much of himself to Castiel- too much, he believed- that if he stayed, the young man would end up killed. Or worse. So it came down to one thing: hurt the prince so effectively that the prince wouldn’t try to make him stay- because if the prince asked him anything, Dean would so it.

Dean looked him in the eye and bit out, “One hundred thousand credits; give or take.”

Castiel nodded slowly, looking away for a moment before facing him again. His face was frozen, but his eyes- _Oh god, his eyes,_ Dean thought- were shattered, “I see. I hope it was worth it.”

Dean swallowed thickly, and said quietly, “It was worth it, but even if I didn’t get the money, I wouldn’t stay.” He looked away as his voice cracked, he wished he didn’t have to do this but with one look at his brother he continued, “Going up against the Morning Star is suicide and you know it, Cas. You won’t be coming back from this.”

Jimmy shook his head, “I never thought that you of all people would say that, Dean. You know what happened there, to all of us. **Bobby**. Don’t turn your back on us now, we need you.”

Dean looked at Sam, practically begging him with his eyes, hoping against hope that this confrontation would sway him. Sam turned away, giving Dean his answer without saying a damn thing. _Fuck it,_ Dean thought acidly, he was a grown man and able to make his own damned decisions. If Sam wanted to leave, then he was going to try his damndest to get Jimmy and Castiel to come with them.

Dean stepped closer to the twins, “Come with us. You’re only going to end up dead.”

Dean stumbled back as suddenly Castiel was in his face, his blue eyes alight with anger as he whispered, “These are my people- it is my duty to the Rebel Hunters that I fight with them and for them. I would rather die for something that I believe in, than to run away like a **coward**.” The prince gazed into Dean’s eyes for the final time; either to drive his point home, or to memorize each unique feature, the prince didn’t know or care. He moved back; suddenly weary of the drama that had ensued, “Come, Jimmy. The Rebel Hunters need our help, let’s not disappoint them.”

Jimmy slowly turned away and walked towards the ships getting ready for departure. Castiel strayed behind, saying quietly, “I should have known better than to put my trust in you.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped as he watched the prince walk away, his heart growing heavy with each retreating step. Dean had to watch a number of people and opportunities walk away from him, simply because he was either trying to make his father or his brother happy. Once again, his brother won, and Dean hurt someone that he was connecting so strongly with. He stiffened when he felt his brother’s large hand on his shoulder; he turned to him and shrugged his hand off roughly, “Don’t try to act like you feel bad for me, dude. You won.” With that, he roughly brushed past his brother and retreated into the Millennium Impala.

* * *

“That lying, cowardly, son-of-a-bitch!” Jimmy raged.

Castiel sighed, letting go of his anger while talking to Dean and Sam was probably the worst thing to do around Jimmy. He regretted the whole conversation, knowing full well that he should have tried to see things from Dean’s point of view. In hindsight the man looked defeated and scared; Castiel should have tried to get to the truth of the matter instead of focusing on his own problems. Some rational negotiator he turned out to be, the one time he could have used his skills to dissolve the argument he threw it all away by letting his emotions get the better of him.

He had to set everything aside for now, and examine all of these issues when he had the luxury to think for a few moments. Preferably when the Morning Star was destroyed and they weren’t in constant peril. “He had to choose his own path, Jimmy.” Castiel said quietly, “We cannot choose it for him, no matter how much we want to.”

Jimmy nodded in agreement, “You’re right. I wish Bobby was here, I doubt he would let Dean and Sam leave.” Jimmy looked over at his twin as he was checking over the X-wing beside his, “Uh, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to help in the battle, I thought that was obvious.”

“Like Hell you are!” Jimmy exclaimed. He ducked his head, embarrassed by all of the attention his outburst caused.

Castiel frowned, “I will not stand by and let other’s fight in my stead.”

“But-”

“No,” Castiel interrupted, “If you go, then so shall I. If we are to die, then we will die together. I am going with you, and that is final.” The two brothers shared a soulful look, believing that it would be the last time that they saw each other. Two steps closer and they were gripping each other’s forearms tightly, smiling tightly before breaking away. They climbed the ladders into their respective ships, and Jimmy gave Castiel a quick ‘thumbs up’. His brother gave him a curious look before giving him the same signal, albeit uncertainly.

Jimmy settled back into his pilot’s chair, tugged on his flight helmet, and gripped the steering column in a sweaty grip. He could hear the voices of the scattered crewmen, the navigators, and the other pilots babbling over each other in his headphones. Everyone was filled with nervous energy, excitement, and trepidation for what they were about to possibly accomplish. Jimmy was anxious, but the feelings were mixed with fear and doubt rather than excitement. It was true that he was growing bored with the hydro-farm, and wished for something more out of his life, but was this really it? They were going up against something so huge- so frightening- that Jimmy was starting to nervously feel as if he had bitten off more than he could chew.

He looked up through the wind-shield and was surprised to see Chuck3PO standing at the side of his ship, talking to BeckyD2. It may have just been Jimmy’s paranoia about the coming battle wreaking havoc on his mind, but he could have sworn that the droid looked… anxious? He shook his head in amusement- he was letting his mind play tricks on him.

“Be careful Becky,” Chuck3PO said seriously, “You’ve got to come back.”

She beeped at him softly in reply and Chuck3PO laughed quietly to himself, “You wouldn’t want my life to get boring, now do you?” She whistled at him as the chief crewman directed the robot away, waving a signal to the other crewmen to finish their last adjustments.

The cockpit shield rolled smoothly into place over Jimmy’s head, the fueling hose disengaged and he heard the roar of the other engines as they were revving for action. Jimmy wished fervently that Dean was coming with them, that he had changed his mind, hoping against all hope that they weren’t going to all die before he had a chance to at least punch the man for abandoning them. Jimmy let out a nervous breath through his nose as a man directed the ships to lift off with red signaling lights- it was now, or never.

Just before he maneuvered his ship in position, he heard a familiar voice say, _“Jimmy, Faith goes with you.”_ He shook his head and tapped his headphones to make sure he wasn’t picking up some strange feed, and wondered if now was the best time for him to go crazy.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

 _Warning, Morning Star approaching. Estimated time to firing range: Fifteen minutes._

The intercom message echoed throughout the Rebel Hunter base, reverberating between the walls of the control room and around the gathered men who pensively surrounded the electronic display of the Morning Star approaching their moon. The time that they had left seemed so short, and all were intimately aware of how the procedure had to be maneuvered for it to be successful. The Morning Star was sure to send out legions of TIE fighters to slow the Rebel Hunters to their goal, they had such a small window of opportunity and so few experienced men to achieve the objective. Fifteen minutes: the Rebel Hunters could be successful in destroying the Morning Star, and ultimately bring down the Galactic Host; or they will die horribly, with the base to be annihilated soon after. Everyone in the control room waited with bated breath as the pilots announced their stand-by, anxious for the final battle to commence.

* * *

Castiel listened as each pilot, including his brother, announce their handle and waited for their orders. He held onto the steering column tightly, with his mouth compressed into a line. He prayed for safe passage, that they would be successful, that Zayder would be on the Morning Star as it exploded into a million space particles. He took a deep breath, relaxing his muscles and spoke into his headset, “Lock s-foils into position.”

The X-wings moved into a v-shaped pattern, with Castiel in the forefront, the Red- who joined just minutes before they took off for battle- and Gold Leaders on each side of the prince. As one, they unfolded the wings of their ships into the definitive ‘x’ pattern, and soared towards the Morning Star.

His ship shuddered slightly, and he knew that they were close, “We passed into their magnetic field. Hold tight in formation, and switch your deflectors on.”

The Morning Star grew as they approached; the small moon became a terrifying behemoth, the stuff of nightmares. Deep trenches stretched across the surface of the battle station, the complex patterns they made caused finding their objective difficult. Castiel scanned the surface, his eyes darted between the surface of the Morning Star and his targeting radar, if they could find it quickly then they could destroy the battle station without many casualties.

The surface of the Morning Star glittered like crushed diamonds; hundreds of lights ran in lines and grouped together in small clusters, like the capital city of Alderaan seen from above. The sight was equal parts breathtaking and frightening, and for a moment, Castiel felt a sharp stab of remorse for his home. It only strengthened his resolve to see this mission through; however it wouldn’t ease the ache left in his heart at the thought of all he had lost.

The deep voice of Gold Leader interrupted his thoughts, “Your highness, this is Gold Leader. We’re going for the target shaft now.”

Castiel let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, “I copy, Gold Leader.” He looked on either side of him, seeing the faint profile of his twin’s ship just beside the Red Leader, and on the other side, another veteran pilot. He was thankful that he and his were surrounded with experienced fighter pilots, namely the Red and Gold Leaders; if anything went wrong- and he prayed that nothing did- the other pilots would be able to take care of what needed to be done. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see two TIE fighters closing in on them in the distance- he assumed that the Rebel Hunters most likely appeared on the Galactic Host’s radar as soon as they passed into the magnetic field. He moved his targeting device in position in front of his eye, “We’re in position to make our move. I’m cutting across to try and draw their fire. Red Two, Red Three, follow me.” Castiel and two other Rebel Hunters broke away from the group to lead the TIE fighters away, while the rest swooped down into the trench towards the shaft.

As they had discussed just a few minutes before approaching the Morning Star and after leaving their home bases’ atmosphere, Gold Leader broke off with two pilots- Red Six and Red Seven. That left the Red Leader with Jimmy and the last remaining pilot, Red Four. Gold Leader followed yards away beside Castiel with his own contingent, ready to back-up Castiel or Red Leader if either needed any assistance. The remaining pilots were to watch the Morning Star and to intercept those who were making for the main squadrons to the trench.

Castiel and Gold Leader hovered over the third group as they made their descent into the trench; the only sound was their combined deep breathing over their headsets. The atmosphere in all the cockpits was tense, thick with anxious dread. The enormity of what they were all about to do infused the space around them with sparks of excitement and dread, it seemed as though everyone’s nerves were razor thin.

Castiel jerked as Red Leader’s voice could be heard over his headset, “Stop breathing into the mic, guys- makes me feel like I’m in a very awkward holo-porn.”

Castiel snorted in surprised amusement, the other’s voice joined with his over the headset. Suddenly he was glad that Red Leader joined their party. He was the one who had trained Castiel his whole life, and had thought of as one of the many that had died hours ago. His humor served to break the tension they had all been feeling, entirely inappropriate humor at the moment, but nonetheless welcome.

* * *

The remaining X-wings swerved and rolled above the trench, narrowly avoiding the fight with the TIE fighters. Castiel and the other two pilots weaved in a complex pattern to attract the attention of the TIE fighters, successful in their attempt to lead them away from the Rebel Hunters. Laser-bolts arched through the night sky and exploded into any available surface they collided with. There was a fairly large gap in between the whirling ships, and Jimmy saw his chance to dive into the trench.

Wrestling with the fear of making a grave mistake and yet wanting to do the right thing, Jimmy hesitated. With so little time left until the Morning Star approached the moon and destroyed their base, the young man didn’t have long to think. Taking a deep breath, Jimmy spoke into his microphone, “This is Red Five; I’m going in.”

“No, Jimmy! It’s too dangerous!” He heard Castiel say in his headset.

Jimmy shook his head, “I have an opening, and I’m going to take it. Just focus on keeping those TIE fighters off my tail.”

“It’s all good,” Red Leader replied back to Castiel, “If he sees an opening that the rest of us don’t, it’s best to let him go after it.”

Exhaling slowly, Jimmy pushed the steering column forward as far as it would go, and ended up nose-diving sharply into the trench. Jimmy smirked as he noticed a TIE fighter completely abandon the laser battle with Castiel and started to gun it towards him. The hapless pilot of the Galactic Host was about to realize just why following Jimmy was a bad idea. Jimmy pulled the trigger and raked the surrounding walls with laser fire, his eyes widened as a massive fireball exploded before his eyes.

“Oh shit!” Jimmy made a last ditch effort to pull up, but ended up flying right through the fire.

He heard Castiel yell his name in panic, and then as he broke through the flames his brother’s frantic voice buzzed through his headset, “Jimmy, are you there? Are you okay?”

Jimmy panted as he looked through the cockpit on both sides, seeing the last little flares from the fireball streaking off of his wings. He shook his head and blinked ruefully, “I-I’m fine, just a little singed.”

Above and around him, the Rebel Hunters strafed the surface of the Morning Star with laser fire as they traveled closer to their goal.

* * *

Zayder stood in the middle of the smoking room, surveying the chaos around him, the very picture of calm. He supposed that he should be angry at this point; almost furious in fact, but no one could see the rage boiling underneath his composed mask. He critiqued his surroundings quickly- almost instantly, due to his Jedi training- and made peace with the fact that by the end of the night, the Morning Star would be no more. He could feel it in the circulated air, the smell of death and destruction. But who would be their executioner? Castiel? His twin? Both of them were powerful in their own way, even though they were never properly Jedi trained.

The thought of the Rebel Hunters didn’t cross his mind at all; none of them had the ability to do what they would need to in order to destroy the Morning Star. The only way they could defeat the battle-station, is if they were Jedi; their computers would be useless, their training was sub-par, and their reflexes were too slow in comparison to the Jedi’s. Granted, his sons weren’t fully Jedi-trained, and it would be a long shot on their part to find the opening, let alone be fast enough to shoot the target.

In all of Zayder’s years, he wasn’t about to leave anything up to chance- no matter the odds that were stacked in the Galactic Hosts’ favor, he wasn’t going to give up so many years of power simply because of a few rabble rousers. He would be damned all over again if he were to let a few snot-nosed children get in the way of his ultimate rule of the galaxy. He decided to join his garrison as they launched their attack on the Rebel Hunters; he was getting bored watching his men running around comparing notes on the stability of the ship and all of the political nonsense he had to pretend to listen to. Zayder was a man of action, he wasn’t about to just sit on the sidelines now, and he was itching to get inside a TIE fighter to show the rest of the garrison what he could do.

He stifled an irritated sigh as an astro-officer approached him with a datapad, “So far we have counted thirty Rebel Hunters ships, but they are so small they are evading our turbo lasers.”

Honestly, it seemed he was waging a war with children and idiots on his side. Zayder sighed, “Then it seems that we shall have to destroy them ship by ship, now won’t we?” As the man blinked at him, he rolled his unseen eyes and crossed to the intercom, ordering the men to their ships.

Uriel whirled around and stalked up to the large man, “What do you think you are doing?”

“What does it look like? I am taking the fight to them.”

“Are you insane?!” The governor yelled, garnering the attention of the assembled officers.

“I do not have to explain myself to you, Governor.” Zayder responded. He started to walk out of the command center, until a hand gripped his arm. He turned slightly to see Uriel pale and let go, he supposed the man must have been drinking to think he could stop Zayder. “And what, may I ask, do you think **you** are doing?”

Uriel straightened, “Stopping you.” As an afterthought, he added, “Sir.” When silence was his only response, Uriel continued, “I think you are being rather hasty to assume your role in the battle, Lord Zayder. These are different times- not your glory days of old- and a lot of things have changed. You are not the man you once were.”

“Is that so?” Zayder said darkly, holding his hand up and clenching his hand lightly. The other men gaped as Uriel clutched his throat as he choked. Zayder’s unseen lip curled with disgust underneath his mask, “Don’t assume you know of my abilities, you spineless toad. I **made** you what you are Uriel, and I can put you back where I found you. Don’t test my good Faith.”

With that, Lord Zayder dropped his hand flippantly. The other man fell to his knees and coughed loudly. Zayder turned and left the command center, thoughts of the coming battle racing through his head. His sons, and their friends the Rebel Hunters, weren’t going to know what hit them.

* * *

The Millennium Impala cruised through the starry space in utter silence; Dean didn’t want to speak to his younger brother, for all that would exit his lips would be curses and anger. That kind of talk they could ill afford at the moment. Sam was just as disinclined to do the same, he didn’t want to debate the merit of helping out a small resistance faction, nor did he want to discuss his brother’s reasoning as to why he was so hell bent to help. He couldn’t believe that his older brother was so wrapped around the prince in the first place, they only knew each other for a few hours, so why was Dean acting like Sam just kicked his puppy?

Sam fought the instinctive eye-roll as he saw his brother gripping the steering column in a white-knuckled grip when Sam sighed in frustration. Sam angled in his seat to face his older brother, gripping his armrests, “If you’re going to act like a baby-”

“Leave it alone, Sammy.”

Sam almost growled, “No, I’m not. And it’s Sam.” When he received no response, he threw his large hands in the air and let them slam on the leather armrests, “I honestly don’t know what to do anymore, either I turn a blind eye and let you get hurt, or I intervene and you get pissed at me. How do I ever win with you?”

Dean’s lips thinned and flicked the auto-pilot controls on harshly, “I never asked you to ‘intervene’ on my behalf. I never asked you to look out for me, and I never will.” With that, he stood and started to exit the cockpit. As he approached the doorway, he turned and said woodenly, “When are you ever going to start thinking about someone or something other than just yourself? It wasn’t just because I wanted to help Cas and the Rebel Hunters, it was because that was the right thing to do.” He held up his hand when he saw his little brother open his mouth to defend himself, “Ever since we were kids, Dad always found the time to help others that were in need, even if he was on a hunt. He instilled that in us, and no matter how busy, or what was going on, I always found the time to help those who really needed it. Today was the first day that I ever turned my back on someone, and I feel sick about it. And what’s worse? Is that you, my little brother- the one who knows just how important Dad’s lessons were- made me turn my back for the first time in years.”

“But Dean, I did it because-” Sam began, but was interrupted as Dean slammed his hand in the archway.

“I don’t give a shit about your reasons, Sam! I don’t care! I wanted, needed to help them. I want to get those fuckers back for what they did to Bobby, to Cas, to Jimmy, hell…even us! You watched same as me as Zayder killed Bobby, knew full well the story behind Jimmy and his brother, and knew what Jimmy went through to get to us. All in two days! And you don’t give a shit except what you need, what you want! I’m so fucking tired of coddling you, I’m sorry for what happened to you, for what happened to Jessica, but I swear to whatever god you believe in that the more you try to protect me from others, the more you are going to push me away from you.” Dean stopped, panting in the doorway. His shoulders hitched slightly, his face red, and his eyes unusually bright in the murky light that illuminated the cockpit. After a few moments, when he was sure that his stunned brother wouldn’t say anything, he let out a breath and seemed to deflate. He closed his eyes and walked down the hallway towards his private quarters.

Sam was then left alone in silence, the soft beeping of the controls the only sound. Usually the silence was what the younger Winchester craved. His brother was a wild force of nature, always had to make some sound, a strange habit that was never explained. Where once he wished for a few minutes of quiet, some precious time to think, now he would be thrilled to have his brother take the seat next to him and proceed to fill the next few hours with his own ways to amuse himself. Whether it was making weird sounds, discussing future plans, or just talking; the silence was more pronounced, made altogether lonelier by his absence.

Sam tried anything and everything to drown out the silence, the incessant thought that ran through his mind, telling him that he was wrong to push his brother into a decision that went against his nature. He was angry- furious, even- that his brother let someone influence him into doing something so dangerous, but it truly wasn’t his call to make…not any longer.

Prince Castiel was to blame for that.

Sam buried that dark thought deep into the recesses of his mind. Yes, he was used to being the most important fixture in Dean’s life, and though he was slightly ashamed to admit it, he used it to his advantage often. It wasn’t to say that he didn’t appreciate his elder brother- he did- but he didn’t like to be antagonized for wanting to make sure Dean was safe. While Sam was away enjoying his long-wished for normal life, Dean proceeded to get himself embroiled in all manner of mischief. It was then up to Sam to get Dean on the safe path again, and he felt he was doing well. Now, the prince appeared into their life and threatened to ruin everything.

Sam sighed; it was under these circumstances in which he hated to be alone at the moment, with only himself and the whispers from the shadows as his only company. Honestly, it would be better off all around if he just made up with Dean. He would have to go along with whatever hare-brained scheme Dean came up with, and even though Sam knew it was a bad idea- for he could see the events unfolding from this battle stretching far into their future- he could use it to caution and stop his brother when he was about to do something else just as ridiculous.

He nodded, now would be the perfect time to ask Dean’s forgiveness, and get the show on the road. He got out of his seat, and walked towards Dean’s room, only to stop short as his door opened. Dean looked up and stopped suddenly as well in his doorway, wearing a weary and resigned look. They stared at each other for a few tension-filled moments, each look holding a wealth of emotions that took the two men seconds to interpret: anger, confusion, regret, forgiveness, resignation, and acknowledgement. They gave each other a short nod and entered the cockpit to turn the ship around and help the Rebel Hunters destroy the stagnant tyrant that ruled the galaxy with an iron fist.

* * *

Jimmy decided to focus completely on getting to the shaft and ending the space fight once and for all, although once the thought entered his mind, his scanner picked up on a TIE fighter tailing him. It was the very same one that he hoped to destroy with the massive fireball he caused just moments ago. He could hear his companion’s chatter over his headset, wondering where he was, and his twin’s panicked voice as he questioned Jimmy’s whereabouts. Jimmy soon became aware that his communications were temporarily cut out.

Becoming ever more frustrated, Jimmy pulled back on the steering column and tried to pull out of the trench- which was all the better to get noticed- hoping all the while that they would get the bogie off of him. He tried every trick he knew, maneuvered his ship in every intricate pattern that he could think of, but nothing he did stopped the fighter from following him.

“I can’t lose him!” Jimmy cried desperately into his microphone.

Castiel saw the trouble that Jimmy was in and broke away from his group, his stomach roiling with adrenaline fueled anxiety. Jimmy’s ship soared towards the surface of the Morning Star, making yet another break for the trench, hoping that he could try to lose him there- the relentless TIE fighter following him in pursuit. The lights below Castiel’s ship stretched into thin lines as he whipped across the surface.

“I’m on him, Jimmy,” Castiel said as he dived over the side of the trench, coming up close behind the TIE fighter.

Jimmy looked all around him, trying to find where his brother was, and not to crash into the narrow walls of the trench. He muttered to himself, “Damn it, Cas, where are you?”

Castiel swung to one side behind the TIE fighter as the Red Leader swooped in beside him. They both opened laser fire on the Imperial ship, causing it to explode. The Red Leader and Castiel pulled up just before they went through the fire ball, flying out of the trench on both sides to meet up with their respective groups.

Jimmy sighed in relief, “Thanks guys.”

The Gold Leader swooped down close to the trench surface, his two pilots behind him. He moved his mic closer to his mouth and said, “This is Gold Leader, we are now re-starting our attack run. The exhaust port is marked and locked in.”

The Gold Leader gave his men the signal and started skimming the surface of the Morning Star beside the trench. With the assistance of the two pilots following him, they laced the surrounding area with a volley of laser fire. The massive ship answered back with its own fire through turrets set up on the surface.

The Gold Leader raced along the top of the trench as laser bolts blasted toward him in increasing number. They would occasionally explode near the ship, rocking the Gold Leader from side to side. He switched some buttons above his head, “Switch power to the front deflective screens.”

All of the rebel hunters were beset on each side by laser fire, streaking past them and occasionally setting off small explosions. The exterior surface guns of the Morning Star opened fire on the oncoming Rebel Hunters.

The Gold Leader scanned the area, asking in his microphone, “How many guns do you think, your highness?”

Castiel shook his head, “I'd say about twenty guns: some on the surface, some on the towers- not to mention the TIE fighters following us.” The Galactic fighters that were following them arched above them, setting forth a hail of laser fire that they had to dodge. Castiel and the Gold Leader put their targeting computer down over their eyes; the laser bolts battered their crafts continually.

“Switch to your targeting computers, we’re coming up on the exhaust port.” Castiel commanded. His heart was beginning to beat faster; the battle was starting to end, in just a few moments their lives will change forever.

Castiel was about to get his revenge.

He froze as his ship was rocked by laser fire that grazed his ship, and heard over his headset, “I don’t have a signal! My computer’s locked!”

It was one of his own men, and chills ran down his spine to realize just how close they were to not only victory, but their potential death. As they approached closer to the exhaust shaft, the laser fight around them suddenly stopped. An eerie silence descended upon them as the Morning Star’s surface streak underneath them in a blur.

Castiel’s raspy breath was so much louder than it should have been, he was sure that at the exhaust port would be the most difficult part of the battle. He felt sort of cheated, and yet concerned; this wasn’t the easiest of space battles he was ever in, nor was it the hardest. Something about the atmosphere urged him to wait, to look around himself, the battle wasn’t over yet.

He angled his head for better sight, the hush of silence turned his usual strong voice into a harsh whisper as he commanded, “Stabilize your rear deflectors. Watch for enemy fighters.”

He whirled his ship around as the Gold Leader’s voice yell into his ear, “They’re coming in! Three marks at two-ten!”

* * *

Zayder lead his two followers towards the Rebel hunters, and in irritation thought that his men should have been able to file down at least a few of them by now. This wasn’t a practice drill for them, and they should not have been so careless as to treat it as such. Even though the Morning Star was intimidating in its vastness, and was designed as a battle station, it had its flaws. Nothing so mighty was immune to vulnerability, and it could very easily to be used to the Rebel Hunter’s advantage at the moment.

He shook his head; he knew as soon as they caught wind of a spy he should have left the Morning Star. It was the same as with the Jedi all those years ago, he should have left when they succeeded in serving his purpose, rather than getting invested emotionally.

Darth Zayder took center point as the three TIE fighters dove in precise formation toward the Rebel Hunters in an almost vertical swoop. He subtly adjusted his control stick while the stars whizzed by through his cockpit windows.

Zayder lined up a Rebel Hunter ship in his targeting computer, his fingers clenched around the control stick, the leather of his black gloves creaking under the pressure he was putting them under. His thumb hovered over the red button housed on the very tip of the control stick, waiting for just the right second to push it. As soon as the targeting computer flashed, he pressed down on the button, letting his laser loose on the hapless ship in front of him. He grinned as light exploded from the ship, and set off to target another Rebel Hunter ship. It was like shooting refugees in a small enclosed room, he honestly questioned his pilots’ intelligence.

He shook his head as he dove into the trench, he was confident in his own abilities as a star pilot, but there was no telling how the battle will play out. The Rebel Hunters had succeeded where others had failed, but he was not about to let the Morning Star fall due to inaction on his part. He was not going to be the one to explain this failure to his ever-living master.

* * *

Castiel’s ship rocked from side to side from the explosion of Gold Leader’s ship next to him. He felt the loss like a punch in his gut, Gold Leader was a star veteran pilot, and was killed in the blink of an eye. He swerved his ship closer to the others’, narrowly avoiding the laser fire around him. He could hear his pilots’ panicked voices, and one by one static as two others were shot down. He gripped the control stick firmly as he felt his hands shaking. The walls of the trench seemed to be closing in on him as he raced to Jimmy’s side, determined to protect his brother from the Galactic Host.

He shook his head and cleared the lump from his throat before he spoke, “Castiel to Home Base... We lost Gold Leader, Tiree, and Dutch. Faith be with them.”

He could have saved the announcement until after they were out of the battle, but if he had to stay on the moon, he would have wanted to know what was happening. He knew that in just a few minutes time that the Morning Star would be in range of their home base, and accelerated his ship. Suddenly, he was slammed forward as his wing was clipped by a laser. His wing blazed out of control as another bolt hit one of his engines, and his stomach plummeted as his ship spun towards the wall of the trench.

* * *

Jimmy looked about him nervously as the space-battle raged outside of his cockpit. He felt the tremors of the explosions all around him, and mourned the loss of the many that had died. He searched almost frantically for a familiar Rebel Hunter ship, praying desperately that it wouldn’t get shot down like so many others. He froze in his seat as he saw Castiel’s gold-adorned ship spinning out of control towards a nearby wall of the trench.

Was this how it was all going to end? One minute he is the only child on a small moisture farm, and the next he meets a long-lost twin brother who was steadily becoming the most important person in his young life. He didn’t know what he would do if he lost Castiel now, there was no home for him any longer back on Tattooine, he had seen too much, had done too much to go back and be a moisture farmer. He couldn’t live out his life all alone- didn’t know what it truly meant to be alone before- and he didn’t want to start experiencing it.

“Jimmy!” He jumped as the voice exclaimed in his ear, realizing that the person on the other side must have been saying his name for a while now. He looked back over at the wall and breathed a sigh of relief as Castiel’s ship righted itself and maneuvered away from the wall at the last second.

“Cas? You’re alright?!”

“Yes, I’m fine.” He could hear the amusement in Castiel’s voice, before it took on a more commanding note, “Jimmy, take Red Two and Three. Hold up about five clicks from the surface and wait for my signal... to start your run.”

Jimmy gulped and nodded, then sheepishly replied back verbally. Jimmy and the two others flew in formation miles above the Morning Star’s surface. The scattered lights, the laser bolts and explosions lit up the night like nothing else he has ever seen before. It used to be sand and stars, more sand than anything else. Even though they were in the midst of absolute peril, he had to admit that the scenery stretched before him was hypnotic, horrifying and beautiful.

Was it worth every step it took for him to get here?

He wasn’t comfortable answering the thought; wasn’t comfortable even thinking it. It wasn’t worth the family he lost, the home that was safe and familiar, and certainly wasn’t worth the life of a friend like Bobby. Shaking his head of his morbid thoughts, he peered out of his cockpit window. Two X-wings moved across the surface of the Morning Star, like birds soaring across the Tattooine sky. Castiel’s battered X-wing dropped down to the surface leading to the exhaust port.

While Jimmy meanwhile, searched the space around them for the TIE fighters. He began to perspire as he saw no sign of them, knowing that they had to be lying in wait. It was the worst time for it, but he seriously questioned the wisdom of the Rebel Hunters. The Galactic Host had to know the places where they could easily hide their ships from enemy eyes, and it seemed to Jimmy that they were just playing into their web. He doubted that they would have lost so many pilots if they went about the battle plan better- in their defense, they didn’t have much time to plan and he wasn’t sure if he could come up with anything better on the fly- but something told Jimmy that they were lying in wait for a trap.

“This is it!” Castiel’s voice rang in his ears. Jimmy and the two others soared into the trench, Jimmy constantly on the lookout for any enemy fire as they weaved around each other to make for a difficult target. Castiel roamed down the trench of the Morning Star as lasers streaked across the black heavens, the enemy was upon them though this time they were ready for it.

Jimmy gasped as a huge remote-control laser cannon appeared out of the wall ahead of them and fired at the approaching Rebel X-wings. The Rebel Hunters evaded the Galactic laser blasts by executing very complex flying patterns, it was obvious to Jimmy that if he were to ever join them on another space battle- should he survive this one, Faith willing- that he would need to train with them more often. He could appreciate the beauty of their aerial maneuvers, and could only wish that when he attempted those same movements that he would look half as good doing it.

He was startled out of his thoughts as two of the X-wings travelling with Castiel suddenly exploded. That took their numbers down to only a few. Jimmy growled and started his descent into the trench, ignoring the questions from the two others with him. He plunged into the trench behind two of the Galactic Host, knowing full well that there were at least two more out there hiding. Without feeling the slightest remorse, he let loose with a hail of laser fire, a muscle jumping in his jaw as one of them exploded and the other careened into a nearby wall. Jimmy was closing in on his twin, and the two other Rebel Hunters with him sidled up beside the two as they raced towards the exhaust shaft. It was beyond time for them to finish what they started- with thirty seconds until the Morning Star reached their base.

Jimmy let loose with more laser fire- all the better to make the most damage as he possibly could. He rejoiced as explosion after explosion rocked his vessel with their aftershocks. If he looked behind him, he would have seen sheets of armored plating detach themselves from the walls and plummet towards the bottom. The communication and ammunition towers fell, and chain explosions were set off on the trench, blanketing the surface with a web of fiery veins. It was glorious and destructive- it was the power of the Rebel Hunters, and it was glorious to behold, even in the few fragile moments they had left.

* * *

Governor Uriel’s lips pursed as he surveyed the damage in the Morning Star’s control room, and calculated just how many credits they would need to fix everything after the skirmish was over. He knew Darth Zayder wouldn’t be pleased- much less the Emperor- but he knew that it would be worth it in the end once they destroyed the upstarts once and for all. The filth that skittered and cluttered their galaxy needed to be exterminated for the betterment of everyone. If the battle station had to suffer to wipe away the Rebel Hunters, then so be it.

He stayed well away from the spray of sparks, fearing that one small spark of heat would set him aflame, he had seen people die for much less in the battle station. Sometimes he thought the station was cursed with how much evil that walked through the halls on a daily basis. He wasn’t reconsidering his allegiance with the Galactic Host, far from it, but he couldn’t turn a blind eye to the countless seeming “accidents” that occurred.

He looked to his right as a frazzled officer hurried up to him, clutching in his sweaty grip a data-pad that was flashing red lights. The man pulled up short and gulped, his face shining with nervous sweat, a glint of pure terror in his eyes. Usually that look was reserved for facing Darth Zayder, so Uriel took great pleasure in the novelty that he could incite fear in some way.

After a few moments waiting for the officer to speak, Uriel clear his throat, “Well what is it? Speak man!”

The startled officer jerked and then gulped, “W-We’ve received the reports from the south hemisphere. They’ve analyzed the Rebel hunters’ attack, and there is a large danger, sir. They are urging us to evacuate, shall I have your ship standing by?”

Uriel stiffened and shivered slightly as a cold chill skittered down his spine. He squinted at the young man who gazed back at him in expectation, “Evacuate? When we are about to be victorious?” He snorted and chuckled lowly, “You severely overestimate their abilities, officer. Be gone with you.”

With that, Uriel turned his back on the young officer and faced the large computer read-out screen. He was slightly concerned as he witnessed flames moving across the green disc in the center, representing the Morning Star. It seemed that there was a lot that the Morning Star and Uriel himself, would have to answer for.

 _"Rebel base, three minutes and closing."_

* * *

Castiel scanned the space surrounding them and sighed in relief as he spotted Jimmy and the rest of the Rebel Hunters. For all of Jimmy’s supposed “lack of training”, his twin was doing rather well. So well in fact, that Castiel felt a tiny kernel of jealousy in the back of his mind; it had taken Castiel some extra effort to be able to fly with as much confidence and skill that Jimmy achieved with no flight training at all.

He shook off the momentary dark thought, and proceeded to address the remaining Rebel Hunters, “We need to keep a sharp eye out for the Galactic Host. They could be hiding anywhere. Jimmy, can you see them from your vantage point?”

He could just see his twin scanning the surrounding area with the same attention to detail and intensity as Castiel, and could hear his frustrated sigh over his headphones, “I can’t see any- wait!”

Castiel leaned forward in his seat, looking all around, “Where?”

“Three o’ clock, and coming in fast.”

A trill of apprehension seized in his throat as he witnessed three of the Galactic Host’s ships coming towards them like the hounds of hell, light glinted off the dome of their cockpits, highlighting the beauty of their craftsmanship before becoming shadowed once again.

Castiel glared and pulled his targeting screen in front of his eyes and proceeded to make several adjustments, “The target’s up, I’m in range, get ready everyone.” His eyes flicked from the readout screen to his targeting computer, it would only be a few more minutes before he could see the exhaust shaft. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the Galactic Host coming closer, “Hold them off.”

He cursed under his breath as a Rebel Hunter ship next to him exploded from a laser bolt. Jimmy answered back with laser fire of his own, but their enemy evaded the bolts at the last moment. Castiel had no time to react to anything that was currently going on around him; he stared through his targeting screen, and as soon as the exhaust port lined up in his crosshairs, he pulled the trigger. “Missile launched.”

* * *

Several Storm troopers and officers stumbled to the floor from the resulting explosion. Uriel grabbed the nearest surface he could reach for balance, looking around him at the chaos that had unfolded within the five minutes of their seeming victory. Their once orderly control room resembled that of a war-zone, rivaling the many battles before the Galactic host took over. The officers that were working on the readouts of the Morning Star looked around wide-eyed before they panicked and ran for the nearest escape pods. Their commanding officers screamed and picked up their weapons, ordering them to get back to their posts. When their commands were left unheeded, they opened fire at the retreating figures.

They crumpled to the singed floor like rag dolls, the few survivors of the friendly fire tripped over the bodies before righting themselves and escaping like rats jumping ship. Uriel’s palms began to sweat, his heart started hammering in his chest, and he knew that the time to escape had eluded his grasp. Damn him for the fool that he was, he suddenly realized that he put all of his faith in the wrong faction.

* * *

“It’s a hit!” Castiel heard over his headphones, he could hear the cheering in the background.

He looked down upon the Morning Star and sighed in regret as he saw the missiles hit the tower above the exhaust port, “Negative.”

Although the surface was in parts blackened and still on fire, the missile had failed to enter the exhaust port. He kicked the flooring beneath him in frustration, he feared there was no way that they would be able to down the Morning Star in the time they had left. His lined the opening up perfectly; there should have been no way that he would miss.

He could be fine with the way that the surface was being dotted with several explosions, obviously he hit something important, but he failed to hit their objective. His eyes narrowed as he spotted a Galactic ship change direction and speed towards him. His stomach knotted with dread, the same feeling he had while in the Morning Star. He knew who was piloting the ship, and jerked the steering column to lead him away from Jimmy.

He darted rapidly between several explosions and shrapnel, frantic to escape the man who would have him join the Galactic Host or die. He grunted as something impacted with his ship, and clenched his teeth as his ship started slowing gradually.

“Cas, we’re right under you,” he heard Jimmy say, “turn around, we’ll cover you.”

Castiel shook his head, “No, don’t try to cover me, get ready to make your attack run, Jimmy.” He wasn’t about to tell them that he lost his starboard engine; it would needlessly worry them and would ultimately cause them to miss. They needed to destroy the Morning Star at all costs.

He narrowly dodged the laser bolts flying from Zayder’s ship, ducking behind parts from other ships lazily floating in the space around them. He hoped that Zayder wouldn’t catch on that Castiel was leading him away from the trench; so much was riding on at least one of the Rebel Hunters destroying the Morning Star.

He pushed his ship as fast as it would go, realizing that there weren’t many places to dodge behind to take the most of Zayder’s laser bolt damage. He spotted a rather large block of metal a few yards ahead and prayed that it was large enough to protect him. He didn’t have a lot of shielding left on his ship, and feared that one more impact would surely sign his death warrant. As Zayder drew closer, Castiel launched away from his temporary hiding spot towards the metal block at break-neck speed.

The moment Castiel whipped behind the metal block, only to curse as Zayder let loose with another round of laser-fire, effectively blowing up what little cover Castiel had left.

* * *

Jimmy gasped as a ship zoomed overhead, and darted behind a metal block just outside the trench, the remnants of Gold Leader’s ship. In the next moment, the metal block exploded, sending out a hail of shrapnel and fire. The ship streaked by Jimmy’s, leaving a trail of smoke and sparks, followed by the Galactic ship. Jimmy pulled the trigger to his laser bolts and smiled as they connected with the Galactic ship, slowing it down long enough for the Rebel Hunter ship to escape.

He leaned back in his seat and addressed the men currently following him, “Okay guys, we’re closing this up. We’re going in full throttle.”

He didn’t know where this sudden confidence came from, but hoped that it would stick with him for at least until they were able to hit their target. After that, it was anyone’s ball-game; they would have only a few minutes to get away from the Morning Star after the missile hit its target if they were to survive. It didn’t seem like much time, to Jimmy it was practically daunting. Jimmy shook his head, it was best to not think of it at the moment, it would only hinder his progress if he let himself worry about how they were going to escape the resulting explosion. He had to hit the target after all; there was no need to count his blessings before he received them. The faster he got there, the faster it will all be over. The stars streaked by him as he accelerated towards the end of the trench, where the exhaust port awaited.

“Jimmy, are you going to be able to pull out in time?” One of the Rebel Hunter’s asked.

“Yeah,” Jimmy said, “It will be just like in Kripke’s Hollow back home...” Just thinking about the hollow back home made his throat ache.

The Rebel Hunters flanked Jimmy on both sides, and together they unleashed a barrage of laser-fire all around the trench. Pieces broke off from the wall, and the x-wings dodged around the dangerous metal. The Morning Star answered back with laser-fire of its own, albeit far more powerful and in greater numbers. Their clean line of ships broke away into smaller cell groups, one group going off to the right to take care of the Galactic Host ships still flying around the trench, and the other group veering behind and in front of Jimmy’s ship to cover him as he made his attack run.

“My scope shows the tower, but not the exhaust port!” One of the Rebel Hunters cried, “Are you sure your computer can hit it, Jimmy?”

Jimmy’s ship barrel-rolled to narrowly evade the laser-fire arching from a cannon that lazily rotated while firing. It was as if the Morning Star didn’t think of them as a serious threat. _Well that’s about to change_ , Jimmy thought with vengeance. His family wasn’t going to die for nothing.

He moved his targeting device in front of his eyes, “You just worry about keeping them off my tail and yourselves out of their range.”

“But what about the tower?” In the background, Jimmy could hear the bolts impacting on the Rebel Hunter’s ship.

Finally Jimmy snapped, “Worry about the Host! Let me worry about the tower!”

He pulled the trigger and littered the trench with liberal laser-fire, grinning as a few Galactic Host ships exploded. He looked through his targeting device and was beset by several numbers and letters set onto a grid. The layout of the trench stretched in front of him in red, there were several pieces missing from the layout in front of him, however the tower was still there. He frowned, and moved back to look out of his cockpit, seeing the tower and then the outcropping of where he knew the exhaust port to be. He looked askance at the targeting device, wondering why the hell they were using such a piece of junk.

 _“Use Faith, Jimmy.”_

Jimmy jumped at voice, the same one he had heard just before setting out towards the Morning Star. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes as he recognized Bobby’s gruff voice. It was soft, and it echoed, but it was clear nonetheless. His heart thumped in his chest, and wondered why it was he could hear a dead man’s voice.

He looked once more through the targeting computer and clenched his hand around the steering column, knowing there would be no way he would be able to see the small opening he needed. The computer was set on the tower, since it was a larger target and very near the exhaust port. The cross-hairs flashed yellow as the targeting computer lined up the tower, and Jimmy growled in frustration.

He leaned back and looked from the targeting computer to the tower that was steadily approaching. Everything in him wanted to listen to the voice, but there was still that part of him telling him that he would be crazy to listen to something that could in fact be stress induced. He idly wondered if there was such a thing as Space Fever.

 _“Let go, kid.”_

“Stop thinking crazy thoughts, Jim.” He told himself, chuckling weakly to himself.

Nevertheless, Jimmy settled back into his seat, his eyes descending to half mast as he whispered Bobby’s teachings to himself. He calmed by degrees, letting his tension go and adjusted his hand from white-knuckling the steering column. The force of his speed made Jimmy’s back dig into the seat, the Rebel Hunter’s fell back behind him, unable to keep up with him.

Jimmy took once last look at his targeting computer, then slowly shook his head while smiling softly as he heard Bobby’s voice growl, _“Trust me, you idgit.”_ Jimmy pushed button beside him and the targeting device receded into its place above Jimmy’s head.

Jimmy rolled his eyes as he heard over his head phones, “-He turned it off. Jimmy, is there something wrong with the targeting computer?”

“It’s all right, I’m fine,” Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his voice sounded, but he heard nothing else concerning his targeting computer.

His stomach dropped as an automated voice repeated:

 _The Morning Star has cleared the planet. The Morning Star has cleared the planet…_

* * *

 

Zayder and his fellow pilots raced towards the Rebel Hunter ships, he was intent on stopping the Rebel Hunters before they had a chance to do anymore damage. He was gaining on the one in front, feeling a familiar pull towards him, and knew that it had to be Prince Castiel’s twin- Jimmy. It was effortless to pick Jimmy out of all the other seasoned pilots- though he wasn’t totally inexperienced- he was still easy to spot. Since Castiel decided to run away like a dog with its tail between his legs and join the ranks in-between the Rebel Hunter ships, Zayder went for the easier target.

He lined up Jimmy’s ship in his crosshairs, and smiled as the targeting system flashed yellow. His gloved forefinger wrapped around his trigger, “I have you now, little one.” He didn’t exactly **want** to destroy his second son, the twins were more powerful than anything he had come across, but if killing Jimmy was the only way he would be able to stop the Rebel Hunters and Castiel, then so be it.

He pulled the trigger, but felt some sort of tremor in the Faith, and nothing was released from his guns. He growled as he tried to sense what or who was interfering with his plans. He saw a shadow fly overhead, and suddenly one of his wingmen exploded. He jumped slightly then cursed as he lost sight of the mysterious ship.

The tremor faded as the shadow disappeared, and Zayder felt a cold chill grip his spine. He knew of no others- save himself, his master, his two sons, and a few choice others he let survive on his side- that were as strong as he in the Faith. He made sure of that himself, and put forth so much effort to annihilate any competition that would try to usurp the Galactic Host.

He looked to his other side and saw the hail of laser-fire that he knew he wouldn’t be able to dodge, the shadow was back- and with it- certain death if he tried to fight. His wingman was too close, and as he exploded, sent Zayder’s ship careening into the wall. As he tried to pull out, he only succeeded in smashing his other wing into the metal wall. He tried pulling out once again, and due to his navigation system being damaged, only ended up twirling off into the blackness of space.

As the stars pin-wheeled before him, he swore his vengeance on the ship that served to push what little sanity that he had left. The pilot would soon know the meaning of pain, and fear.

* * *

Jimmy watched out of his cockpit as one by one, the Galactic Host ships exploded. The sky was lit with lasers, explosions, and fire. He didn’t know where the fire was coming from, most of the Rebel Hunters were behind him fighting off a few ships of the Galactic Host, but nothing they did could rival the damage that was before his eyes. Three Galactic Host ships zeroed in on him, and Jimmy knew that if he didn’t move it and quickly, he was going to be killed.

He gaped as a large shadow descended upon the three ships and one of them exploded. The force of the blast sent the last two into the wall, smashing the center ship’s wing. Another blast sent the center ship into the wall until it finally blasted itself out of the trench and spinning out into the darkness of space. The last ship that tried to attack Jimmy was hit by a large laser-bolt and exploded into a thousand tiny pieces.

Suddenly, the Millennium Impala appeared before him, chasing down and peppering three Galactic Host ships with a barrage of laser fire. Jimmy beamed, his breathing easier as Dean cleared out the Host ships as they came towards him. His headphones scratched with static before he heard Dean’s growling voice crow, “That’s right, bitches! Daddy’s home!”

Jimmy rolled his eyes at Dean’s comment, but couldn’t help the light-hearted laughter that bubbled in his chest. He honestly thought he saw the last of Dean and his brother, Sam. He was very disappointed in himself for leaving things as they were, Dean deserved more than that- especially after all the help he gave Jimmy and his brother.

“Let’s do this thing, Jimmy. Send ‘em packing!”

“Will do, Dean!” Jimmy gunned his engines towards the tower that was rapidly approaching. He took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger to his missiles. He watched as the missiles disappeared into the shaft, and knew that he scored the hit. He gasped and pulled back on his steering column, quickly flying out of the trench and back towards the Rebel Hunter base. He could hear the faint cheering of the other Rebel Hunters as they followed after him, intent on getting as far away from the Morning Star as they could before the missiles hit the reactor in the center of the battle-station.

Jimmy knew the moment the reactor was hit; several small flashes dotted the surface of the Morning Star before it burst into the most glorious supernova Jimmy had ever seen. Granted, Jimmy hadn’t seen many, but still, it was beautiful nonetheless. Frankly there was a part of him that believed he couldn’t possibly have saved the galaxy, and destroyed the blight upon their universe. Soon, the massive explosion dissipated into glittering shards, and then into nothingness. It was hard to believe that not only a few minutes ago, that very same space was filled with a massive battle station intent on destroying its second planet.

“Awesome, Jimmy,” Dean said quietly, breaking the spell of silence that descended on the Rebel Hunters, “That shot was one in a million.”

Jimmy turned on the auto-piloting system, glad that BeckyD2 survived the whole encounter in one piece. That little droid had saved them countless times, and saw him through the toughest battle he had yet, there was a hot oil bath with her name on it as soon as they got to their destination.

As he relaxed in his seat, confident that BeckyD2 was able to bring them home safely, he closed his eyes. He didn’t even jump as he heard Bobby’s voice once more saying softly, _“Remember Jimmy, Faith will be with you. Always…”_

* * *

The roar of the cheering crowd was the only thing they heard as they entered the hangar of their home base. Jimmy’s cockpit opened before it fully stopped, and he sat on the edge, looking for his twin. For a moment he was concerned that Castiel’s ship didn’t make it, that somehow his twin died in the blast. He was sure that he would have known if Castiel was injured, he heard tales about twins all of his life and how connected they were, due to sharing a womb. He breathed out a sigh of relief as not only Castiel’s battered ship entered the hangar, but the Millennium Impala as well.

Castiel had to push his cockpit open, the metal framing of his ship singed and nearly gone, every opening curled with black smoke. His twin stumbled down the ladder and coughed, waving away the few concerned that surrounded him. He straightened, and his eyes locked with Jimmy’s, warming with happiness. Jimmy hurried down his own ladder, and embraced Castiel, who returned his hug stiffly. Jimmy didn’t pay it any mind, he knew that Castiel couldn’t be fully-healed, having just come back from the Morning Star’s prison cell.

He moved back, and saw Dean walking through the crowd towards them over Castiel’s shoulder. He stopped just a few feet away from them, put his hands in his pockets and smiled sheepishly at them, not sure about his welcome. Castiel noticed Jimmy’s wavered attention, and turned to spot Dean on the edge of the cheering crowd. Jimmy noticed the hesitant pause before Castiel walked up to the older Winchester.

“There was more to this than money…wasn’t there?” Castiel asked carefully. He wanted nothing more than to move closer to the pilot, but he kept himself planted a few feet away from him.

“A lot more, Cas.” He answered just as softly. He opened his mouth to say more, but hesitated and licked his lips in thought, “I won’t- can’t say how much that money means to me. I can’t tell you why, all I can say is that its more than just greed, Cas. I don’t want you to think I only thought of money when we saved you.”

Castiel’s head tilted to the side, “What were you thinking of, then?”

Dean was about to answer before Raphael broke through the crowd, “Prince Castiel! We have urgent business to speak with you.”

The spell laid upon them in those few moments was broken as Castiel sighed. The other man moved forward and curled a hand around Castiel’s arm, the almost possessiveness of the act made Dean’s throat ached with the urge to growl. As Castiel was led away, their shoulders brushed slightly, and they shared a look that to Dean- spoke volumes. Their talk wasn’t over.

* * *

“Hey.”

Jimmy turned to see Sam leaning against his ship’s ladder, with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, and his hair shielding his downturned face.

“Hey yourself,” Jimmy said neutrally. He knew it was because of Sam that Dean left; the younger Winchester must have said or done something to cause Dean to turn his back on them. He obviously knew exactly how much influence he had over his older brother and used it to his advantage. It was disappointing, but unavoidable.

“Look, I’m really-”

“Hey,” Jimmy interrupted, “You don’t need to say anything to me. I get it, I do. You want to keep Dean safe, and that’s commendable.” However, he stalked up to the taller man and growled, “But if you ever put that look on Dean’s face again, or cause any more damage than you’ve already had, you will answer to **me**. Got that, Hotshot?”

Sam reared backward, taken aback at not only Jimmy’s tone of voice, but the way the air seemed to vibrate- tremble- at the force of Jimmy’s emotion, “Y-Yeah. You won’t hear any more grief from me.”

Jimmy peered into his eyes for a few moments longer, and Sam worriedly wondered what exactly he seemed to find before the shorter man relaxed and nodded, “Okay then.” He kept his eyes on Sam as he took a few steps back before turning and joining up with his twin who broke through the crowd to stand with Dean silently.

When Jimmy came near, Dean smiled and pounded the shorter man on the back. Sam would have given anything in the world to have Dean to be at so much ease around him. It seemed that his older brother was constantly on his guard ever since Sam joined him, and there seemed to be nothing that Sam could do to change it.

As Dean walked up to him, he could see the good humor fade from his eyes, and his shoulders tighten. He swiveled on his heel, folded his arms, and leaned his back against the ship in such a smooth motion that made Sam almost sick with jealousy. “So uh,” Dean started, “What was up just now?”

“Nothing,” Sam hedged, “We were just talking.”

Dean snorted, “Looked more than just talking to me.”

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, “Dean-”

“Forget it,” Dean said easily. He propelled himself off of the side of the ship and joined up with Castiel who beckoned him forth. They spoke for a few moments, seemed to get into an argument, and Castiel turned away and watched the crowd. He turned his head slightly, and spoke softly but firmly, looked imploringly at Dean.

Dean sighed, watched the crowd until he shook his head and wiped his face. His shoulders slumped before nodding, and walked back to Sam. The younger Winchester’s brow furrowed, “What was that?”

Dean pursed his lips and huffed, “Looks like they’re giving a ceremony for the heroes who destroyed the Morning Star.”

“And?”

“ **And** ,” Dean irritably replied, “Since we brought back the prince, and helped in the battle, we have to be present. You, me, Jimmy… **we** are the heroes, dude.”


	7. Epilogue

Jimmy stood near the entryway into the temple’s throne room, afraid that he would trip in front of everyone once they marched down the aisle up to the great stone dais, or something else equally as embarrassing. He gulped at the amount of people gathered in the great hall: hundreds of the Rebel Hunter troops, the refugee families, dignitaries sympathetic to the Rebel Hunter’s cause, and Castiel himself- standing at the end of the aisle. Two banners hung from the stone ceiling; the old Republic banner was old, tattered and scorched in some places- one of the only banners that were saved from the countless battles that ensued after the Galactic Host took control. The other banner was newer, though kept in secret; this was to be the new Republic’s banner when the Galactic Host was gone completely, the Rebel Hunter banner of peace.

Jimmy jerked when he felt a touch to his arm and turned, an officer motioned him forward silently, and the young man joined the Winchester brothers who were just a step away from the archway. As soon as they took a step forward, a celebratory fanfare of trumpets sounded. Jimmy’s heart pounded as they marched down the aisle, hearing each Rebel Hunter sound off and salute them as they passed by. They climbed the three steps, and kneeled before Prince Castiel who gazed solemnly down at them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chuck3PO and BeckyD2 standing near the edge of the dais, their metal bodies shined and reflected the lights in bright little beams of light, and he smiled at how well even the droids were taken care of.

Prince Castiel turned to an officer standing by him and took a medal from him, and draped it over Dean’s neck. Dean looked up at him, and Castiel was stunned by the intense look in his eyes. He looked the prince from his head to his toes, taking in his ceremonial clothing; finally he grinned saucily and winked. The prince fought the urge to roll his eyes, and repeated his actions with the two other men, draping their medals carefully over their necks.

When they stood, and the heavy medal settled over his chest, Jimmy felt tears prick at his eyes. He blinked rapidly to banish them away, and looked over the cheering crowd. He saw families joining with their soldiers, the refugees beaming with happiness; the haunted look had faded at least for the time being. They had had a memorial for those that were lost during the battle, and they were given peace as well as something to forget for a while what they had lost. Jimmy bit his lip; he would have given anything for his family to be here, watching all of this, seeing what he had done.

He started as he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder, and looked to see Dean smiling softly at him, his green eyes shining suspiciously. Jimmy glanced away for a moment, and felt the corners of his mouth turn up. He turned back and opened his mouth to congratulate Dean, but stopped suddenly, his throat seizing in apprehension. Over Dean’s shoulder he saw a faint glow beside Chuck3PO at the edge of the stage. The mysterious figure sharpened into the features of none other, but Bobby. He folded his translucent arms over his chest and nodded; his expression peaceful. Just as quickly as he appeared, he faded away, making Jimmy question if he really saw him or not.

Dean’s concerned face filled his blurry vision, “Hey man, you okay?”

Jimmy took a breath and nodded, “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Dean drawled, “Look like you just saw a ghost.”

Jimmy nervously laughed, “Yeah, no. Just a little-“

“Overwhelmed,” Sam supplied quietly. He gazed out at the crowd and breathed, “This is just the beginning, guys.”

* * *

The revelry was under way, the music was playing and the Alderaani wine flowed freely. It wasn’t Dean’s particular drink of choice, but he drank it any way, anything to get the nerves out of his system. He was never very comfortable around large groups of people, especially those he didn’t know. He was more at ease around the soldiers and pilots, those were his type of people, but if he wanted to talk to Castiel, he’d have to break through the barrier of senators and officials surrounding him.

After his fourth glass of Alderaani wine- which he had to admit, was a little stronger than he remembered drinking at the young age of sixteen- and after a near hour waiting almost patiently, he caught his moment of opportunity as the crowd parted to reveal a white-robed figure gracefully walked outside onto the only balcony. He waited for a few moments to make sure his quarry wasn’t followed, and made sure that no one was watching him as he hugged the wall and sidled outside.

The night was balmy, though the wind rustled through the jungles trees and plants that gilded the balcony softly. The stars twinkled merrily in the sky, as if they were grateful that the Morning Star was gone from their space. The double moons were full, their bright rays edged everything in blues and silvers; it was truly one of the most beautiful nights Dean had ever seen. His heart made a strange motion in his chest when his head turned to the far left and caught sight of Prince Castiel, leaning his lower back against the railing, his right arm across his waist and a wine clutched gracefully in his other hand. He was looking out over the jungle landscape, a soft and thoughtful look on his face. The moons’ rays hit him full on, he seemed to radiate the light; he looked so…pure. Dean couldn’t help to think that in those few moments of just gazing at him, that he was an angel sent to save him. From what- or who- he didn’t know.

Dean knew he must have made some noise- a wrong step, a gasp- for the young prince’s head turned toward him, his eyes seemingly boring into him. Those electric blue eyes sent sparks down his spine, made his heart skip a beat and chilled him with the thought that they could see into his soul. Those eyes had set him aflame since the first moment they had met, and it was all Dean could do to keep his distance. For all he wanted to do was to march right up to that solemn figure and kiss him, touch him, hold him; make him writhe, pant and moan.

It seemed as if Castiel knew what he was thinking, what Dean was aching to do. The younger man’s eyes widened, his hand plunked the glass onto the railing and didn’t seem to care as the glass wobbled and toppled over the balcony to land in the shadows. Dean could see his chest rise and fall with every deep breath the prince took. Castiel’s arms fell to the railing, and he knew he was effectively trapped. Dean looked out of the corner of his eye behind him, knowing if he walked over right at that moment; no human eye would be able to see them. It seemed as if no one- even in light of their victory- wanted to look outside and swell over their accomplishment, to see the sky-scape without the haunting specter of the Morning Star above them.

When Dean looked back, he caught the prince’s even white teeth sink into his plump lower lip, and all the air punched out of his chest. He stalked towards Castiel, heard his minute gasp when Dean moved into his space. In one smooth motion, he fitted his hips against the prince’s, grasped the back of his head firmly and slanted his lips against Castiel’s. The moment their mouths touched, Castiel gasped again and Dean took that opportune moment to lick the roof of his mouth. He felt the young man in front of him shiver, felt his fingers digging into his back through his jacket and both of his shirts. His fingers twisted in the inky locks of the prince’s thick hair, and plunged his tongue into the prince’s mouth in a semblance of what he really wanted to do Castiel. He heard the soft sounds the young man made, and it only made him hotter, wanted so much more than just fumbles in the dark.

Dean pulled away, both of them panting and straining against each other. He pressed his cheek against Castiel’s and rasped, “Please, god, tell me to stop. Tell me to stop right now and I will. I swear.”

He felt Castiel trembling against him; his shapely calf long since wrapped itself around his knee, “Would you hate me if I asked you not to?”

“God no,” Dean breathed.

* * *

The party was well underway, and the pilots were by all accounts, completely trashed. Maybe that was for the best, Sam smiled. He twirled the fragile glass in his hand, contemplating the amber liquid that swirled in its own tiny whirlpool. It was a long few days, and damned if Sam was tired. It was hard to believe that they hardly had any sleep, well…for Sam anyway. He had no trouble falling deeply asleep, but his brother was a completely different story. Dean could go for days without sleep, but then again, Sam had never been where Dean was.

If his father was alive, he would have a lot of questions to ask him, not to mention a punch in the face for putting that haunted look in his brother’s eyes.

He was too young then to understand what was going on then, in their little family. Before he knew it, Sam and his brother were orphans staying with an old man hiding away in the Jundland Wastes on Tattoooine. Why? Sam didn’t know, and no one ever told him. He was sure that Dean knew some of the mystery of their lives, but he never shared. It seemed that all of their lives, Dean was the one to protect Sam from the evils of the universe.

As he swigged the dregs from his glass he shrugged, it wouldn’t help at the moment to think about how crapped up their lives were. Of course by now he was drunk as hell, and could give the three empty bottle of Alderaani wine as evidence. It took a lot to get a guy as big as Sam drunk, although he could admit that he was a light weight compared to his brother. He honestly couldn’t say why he was currently getting drunk; he helped saved the day, did he not?

Sam had to go with not. It was his brother who convinced him to turn back, to help, so he could admit he was feeling a mite bit guilty for being such an ass. In his misguided way, all he wanted was to protect his brother. He knew it was wrong to get into his brother’s business, but he didn’t want to see him hurt. So what if Dean wanted something that seemed very dangerous to Sam? Who was Sam to get in the way of his brother’s happiness? It would only cause more contention between them if he kept making his brother feel guilty, and kept starting fights over trivial things. From now on, he swore to stay out of his brother’s business and just be there for him whenever he wanted or needed him. He highly doubted that Dean wanted or even needed him, much less wanted him around, but he wasn’t going to just be a dick and abandon Dean like he threatened.

He wanted to talk to his brother about his new-found philosophy on life but unfortunately, at the moment, said brother was off trying to find Castiel to talk to him. Sam didn’t really want to know the details, because he was sure that there wasn’t going to be much talking. He could bet the Millennium Impala on that. He could try to find Jimmy, but he figured that he was the last person that Jimmy wanted to talk to.

He was about to just get up and bunk in his quarters in the ship, when a vision appeared across the room. She was petite, beautiful brunette; her dark eyes seemed to shine with mirth and mischief, especially when her kohl-rimmed eyes fell on him. For a second he was about to look behind him just to see who she was lavishing her attention on, but realized just in time that he was sitting against the wall. Unless she was just a big fan of old temple stone, in which case he was screwed.

He gulped as she slowly walked toward him, her hips swaying with each step, and man was he lost. The slit in her slinky black dress went all the way up to her shapely mid-thigh, Sam was sure that his eye was twitching. When she stopped in front of him, she smiled to show brilliant white teeth, “Hey tiger, is this a private party or can anyone join?”

* * *

“There is no emotion, there is peace,” Jimmy spoke quietly. The Millennium Impala was the only place in which he could calm his roiling emotions and get some semblance of peace. He breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the balmy air from outside. Dean didn’t necessarily feel okay with leaving the hatch open, but relented when Sam mentioned the last time he left it closed and Dean got drunk. It was needless to say that it was not a good day for the pilot.

He let his shoulders relax, and let the warm air with its sweet jungle perfume cloud his senses, “There is no ignorance, only knowledge.” His voice deepened- slowed- and felt his mind spiraling deeper. When he first started meditation with Bobby, he thought it was a load of bull. He couldn’t seem to quiet his mind, he fidgeted, and basically tested the limits of the older man’s patience.

“There is no passion, there is serenity.” He thanked the old man every minute, every hour, for his careful tutelage. He would have been lost without having some way to ease his grief. He missed the life he had lost, and felt guilty for every moment he spent wishing for some way out before they bought the droids. His aunt and uncle did the best they could, and he couldn’t remember the last time he thanked them. The last words he said to them were far from grateful and full of frustration. He couldn’t remember the last time he said he loved them.

He breathed out in a steady stream, letting that guilt go, “There is no chaos, there is harmony.” He was brought back to the incident in the Morning Star’s hangar. Torn with grief because of another person dying because of him, for finding out that his life was a lie and all along he had a brother, he ended the lives of a few Storm troopers, who were just men doing their jobs. He had blood on his hands that he wasn’t sure would ever wash clean. At the moment, all he wanted was revenge, to give back the pain that he was feeling. He let it go now, there was no use hating himself for killing a few men when he destroyed a whole battle-station full of people.

“There is no,” and at this he paused for the slightest moment, “death, there is the Faith.” Faith that one day he would be reunited with his lost family and that he was sure were dead? Faith that he could help the ones he loved, could let them go if they too died? He couldn’t imagine if Castiel died, he honestly didn’t know what he would do then. He was forced to let Bobby go, was forced to let his aunt and uncle die, and was sure that if he were with them, he would be dead as well. Or worse, they could have seen he looked just like Castiel, and then he would have been in worse trouble.

He sighed, he could feel himself becoming more alert, and knew that his meditating was coming to an end. At least he felt a little more himself, felt less lost and overwhelmed. He felt ready for whatever else was going to come his way. He wasn’t expecting to see the translucent image of Bobby sitting across from him.

“Holy crap!” He tried to get to his feet, but fell promptly on his backside, forgetting that his legs were folded in the first place. He scrambled backward until his back hit the metal wall of the ship.

“Are you done acting like an idgit?” He could see Bobby’s scowl.

“Oh my god, you can talk,” Jimmy’s face was practically frozen in shock. Here the man was dead and talking to him, Jimmy never heard of anything happening like this before.

“Of course I can talk,” Bobby growled, seemingly at the end of his patience. “You think I’m just sitting here for my health?”

“W-what are you sitting here for?” Jimmy asked warily.

“I need you to get Dean and Sam back to Tattooine, I’m leaving everything to them. There are some important things in that hut that they will need in the future.”

“I understand that this is important to you,” Jimmy began, “but why-”

“-You?”

Jimmy nodded. Bobby sighed inaudibly, “Because no matter how much I wish it was different, the boys can’t see me. There is a possibility that Sam could, but he knows I’m dead, so therefore I’m gone. Dean won’t see me, simply because he doesn’t believe in our Faith. So it’s up to you, kid.”

“I’ll try-”

“Do or do not, kid. There is no try,” Bobby advised.


End file.
